After reading Jim Taylor’s delightful blog post last week (Details) I was reminded of an old poem entitled The Strangers in the Box. This poem, which I read after my mother’s death, made me feel remiss that I hadn’t spent time with my Mom identifying the “strangers”...
It was our first Christmas away from family. Joan and I had moved from Vancouver to Prince Rupert, on the far north end of B.C.’s coast. We didn’t have many decorations — we had usually celebrated Christmas with my parents – so we had to improvise. The kids and I cut a tree that we found in...