By Patrick Dongvillo, Oregon
I was driving home on a stormy night, when my headlights suddenly outlined a solitary goose standing in the farm’s driveway. This goose shouldn’t be here. It’s supposed to be in the barn, I thought. With the safety of the farm, domestic geese never really learn to fly; they just become fat and happy. So this lone goose would likely be a sitting duck for some hungry coyote.
By Jonker Tomasoa, The Netherlands
Years ago, my wife and I paid a visit to a dear friend and her family in Kenya. It was our first time in that country. When my friend married four years earlier, I was her best man. Although we are not related, she called me Abang, which means brother in the Malay language.
by Sharon Kunin, Minnesota
Maybe a little like meeting God, through feather, fur, or fluttery thing. To be judged not for words, but by the timbre of my voice. Not for ability, but by gentleness of my touch. And not for knowledge, but by the Light that shines from my eyes. To be loved for the nature of my heart.
By Dana Lovell, Minnesota
One morning, my friend Karina and I did a spiritual exercise that contains the question, What do you know as truth? (See the Contemplation Seed at the end of this story.)
By Sri Harold Klemp
Every night when I go to bed, a mockingbird sings outside my window. He works an incredible shift that seems to last all night long. Each night he repeatedly goes through his entire repertoire of about twenty different songs.