Suppose God descended on an elevator to live with us?

What if He walked the streets of New York at Christmas time?

Where is God when we are lost in a dark, tangled forest?

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Book Review
“Author excels at creating very visual scenes, which smartly invite the reader into the story. Setting is richly painted, with sensory details adding to the experiential nature of these stories… Author has a nice instinct for creating voice, and for adding personality to characters via their movements. We get a nice sense of place in the third story, realistic timing, and the sensory in the savory stew and the hay mildewing… Author’s question of ‘which story will you tell?’ has merit, in getting the reader to self-assess the stories they tell, to others and to themselves. The Tramp stands out as a mysterious character, and we are moved by the bloodstains on the doorway, a sign that he was known to help strangers from the briers… “
Judge, 25th Annual Writer’s Digest Self-Published Book Awards.

The San Juan: Panama to San Francisco, 1914

Coming soon–Panama and Beyond:  Letters from Cuba, the Panama Canal, and by steamship to and from Cuba and Panama. 

February 7, 1907…

My dear Mother,   

If only it would always be possible to spend February in such a delightful climate!  This is so fine and makes one feel so good!  No trouble with skin here—and I might have left all my glycerine at home!  Of course the old Cuban regime—still adhered to in country and partly in city–of early rising and working—heavier meals later in day and siesta during intenser heat—is founded on sense and experience—The Americans—at least the army—get around to begin work about as the heat begins to wax stronger! 

Nights always cool—at least out here—is quite a difference between here and Havana—Will likes Southern California much better, tho’—as to climate, people, and abundance of fruit and flowers…This morning I went out early, tramping—and was just fine—brought home orange and grapefruit blossoms—which resemble syringa, were growing wild—our cardinal flower, and several beautiful things unknown—Tell father I’ve enough castor bean seeds to plant the farm with…

On the way:  “A Choice of Roads”

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