Jessica, my mail carrier, beat me to the mailbox yesterday, so I’m taking Christmas cards into downtown Norfork, population 511. My delight to drive three miles on a curvy motorcycle road, to take in the view at the Matney Knob overlook, to admire the green pines. I am grateful for the privilege of living here. Norfork, Arkansas. My town, my tiny town. If you’ve heard of Norfork, Arkansas, perhaps it’s because it’s known for trout fishing. It’s the home of the world record br

I look at the shadows growing long in the yard. They come from a tall maple and our old ribbed house. There they lie on a hard yard like sleeping giants. It happens every December as we near the shortest day of the year. The days darken. I hear the train across the river. I look around and say to myself, One of these days I’ll clean my kitchen right after baking breads and cookies, after making the chili. But hey, it didn’t happen that way today. I didn’t wash the dishes or l

My mother left when I was 14. Daddy sat on the floor in a corner. He drank too much. But I had my six brothers and my five sisters. As the oldest girl, my job was clear: take care of the younger ones. It never occurred to me that I might need someone to take care of me. I have no idea how I kept enough wits about me to learn anything in school. Somehow I managed to pass tests and classes, though I skipped school every other day. Someone had to stay home and tend babies, so my

The tail end of fall is falling outside. Leaves pile up. A holy thing. My husband is disturbed by the leaves and wants time to mow them. Childhood comes to my mind every time I kick leaves. How I loved falling headlong into a pile. I say, “No hurry on that. I’m loving the leaves on the ground. The more the better.” We walk through them and head for church, where there’s a Thanksgiving service and dinner. A cross hangs as a reminder of the One who came as a baby for you and fo