Category: Willows, Memories from Back Home
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The Liturgy of Care
She’s lived here always,where generosity grows. Her door is open—Family and friends come,carrying sweetness in the crook of their arms. Fresh corn, still warm from the sun,twice in one week from cousins who hadn’t planned it,but somehow knew. A bouquet…
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BlackBerry Pie Making Lesson
First, find your blackberry bramble and pick four cups of fresh, handpicked blackberries. They should be plump and have a glossy coat. Set them aside while you prepare the crusts. In a separate bowl, stir together three-quarters of a cup…
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Bringing in Flowers
My mom has such a quiet way.She notices the small things—a flower just opening, a stem leaning too far, a bloom past its prime but still with grace.She gathers a few blooms, never many.Whatever her garden offers.A sprig of lavender.A…
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Blackberry Days
Coming home is a quiet kind of reckoning.The road curves the same way, but the view is different.My mother — just shy of ninety — still makes pies with the same steady hands,rolling dough like she always has,as if the…
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The Antique Round Table
When my mother was a little girl. The school asked—Bring what you can.A penny. A nickel. A dollar if you were lucky. Each week, the children lined up.Coins warm from their hands.Dropped one by one into a small box. At…
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My Godmother Mary
My Godmother Mary has always had a way of lighting up the room before she even steps into it.Her home, once brimming with color and curious little things, felt like walking into a story. Every corner whispered charm, a kind…