~By April Dawn White Despite my daughters resting position, white enamel drums chattered as I checked her temperature, 103.1°F. My fingers gently swept the hair away from her crimson face as I whispered, “Honey, brush
Read moreAuthor: April Dawn White
Beauty Shop Mentoring
Mom set up her beauty shop in 1974. The aroma of perm solution infused with coffee and laughter permeated my childhood. Mom’s beauty shop, located in walkout basement of our home, was the setting for my formidable
Read moreSummer Goals
The campfire curled and crackled sending warm gusts to those circled around the fire. This was the final Wednesday night youth gathering before everyone separated for the summer. A buzz of excitement and anticipation rippled
Read moreOne Defiant Daffodil
Written by April Dawn White The air was thick with the threat of rain. The overcast sky and dreary weather mimicked my Monday morning mood. As I backed out of the garage, something caught my attention.
Read moreAsk, Unless You Never Want to Know
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, my son asked, “Mom, did you draw this card?” “No,” I replied, setting down the syrup next to his stack of fourteen pancakes. Examining the card, Andrew asked, “So
Read moreWinter: A Time to Rest
Frigid temperatures and biting winds ravage the mid-West and east coast of the United States. There is no doubting what season we are in— Winter. The name ‘winter’ derives from an old Germanic word meaning
Read moreGenerosity: The Ripple Effect
“I found it! I found it!” I exclaimed. My family looked at me with strange curiosity as I held up the book Charlotte’s Webb. This book, along with a ceramic Care Bear, is my most
Read moreStuck at Nine: Cultivate a Grateful Heart
While over five and a half years have passed since I wrote this article, the message of cultivating a grateful heart is timeless. (Our son is now a freshman in high school and only a
Read moreGod Doesn’t Require a Running Start
“God doesn’t need a running start.” —Althea Brown Suddenly I awoke to the rumble of bass boats zooming down the lake. The roar of dozens of engines reverberated across the water. It must be a
Read moreGrowing Grandparents Grandkid Style
“Grandma, we’re going on a bike ride.” The porch door slams as Dash, the cat my husband rescued five years ago, scurries into hiding. From the kitchen the aroma of biscuits, cooked apples, and sausage
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