There is nothing so moving as a congregation facing trial, singing a beautiful, ancient song, trying very hard not to cry and not quite succeeding. A true story.
He sat staring at his watch in utter incomprehension, trying to figure out exactly what the little black squiggles meant. The one at the top was twelve, right? Was the big hand for the minutes or the hours?
Papa said that when you can see a neighbor's house from your own doorway, it is time to move, so we sold the house that Papa had built for Mama when they were first married, along with all the land that he had worked and slaved on these many years.
Between the sea and the land I watch as the milky sails are set and the anchor grindingly raised. The time for departure has come. But I am not ready.
Of course, John Bailey didn’t know it was a gryphon. In fact, he had no idea what the animal in his barn was.
It may have simply been boredom that persuaded me to go inside. Or perhaps the slow, southern summer pace of our usually bustling town convinced me I was worthy to enter the gates.
"Black Hole Facts," the sign said. What was it doing on a rural New Hampshire highway?
Narnia? Why had she decided to mention that place? What business did The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe have in a conversation at a party like this?
Perhaps I should have thought longer about offering my brothers the ladybugs as a snack. At the time, though, it seemed like a good idea.
Grimy hands clenched at their spears. Knotted braids were flung back so fierce eyes could gaze at the approaching treasure. Jutting chins were pointed straight ahead. Plunder was the treasure.