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| | | Main : Love : Family Love When We Give Thanks (by: Sidney B. Simon)
We always celebrated Dad's November birthday on Thanksgiving Day, even after he entered a nursing home. As years went on, these events took on a double meaning for me - a traditional birthday party for Dad, and a personal thanking for all he had been to me in my life.
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Choice, The (by: Theodore A. Yulo, Jr)
"Your wife has suffered abuptio-placenta. The baby is now on its eight month but he's in distress; his heart is beating faster than that of a running dog's. You will have to make a choice, sir. Shall we try to save your wife or your child?"
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F-A-M-I-L-Y (by: Author Unknown)
I bumped into a stranger as he passed by,
"Oh, excuse me Please" was my reply.
He said, "Please excuse me too; Wasn't even watching for you."
We were very polite, this stranger and I.
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Famil Portrait, The (by: Thomas M. Ledin)
Christmas day, 1977 my family posed for a picture taken by Mr. Bellows, our next door neighbor. That photo has become the benchmark for all family portraits taken of my family since, not a single one has equaled its magnificence.
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For the Littlest Angel and Her Grandma (by: Mike Pratt)
I wish I could set foot into her small little place,
To savor her emotions, to understand her small face.
I wish I could feel her excitement and joy,
Opening her very first present, her first Christmas toy.
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Gifts on Father's Day (by: Mary A. Aversano)
On December 5, 1998, my son, Jeffrey was in a serious auto accident. He was left a quadrapalegic. From the moment he left ICU, he has shown incredible strength of character and a spirit that has touched everyone he meets.
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In My Eyes (by: Poppy)
He's rough and lacks in etiquette,
Society would say.
He has no classy attributes,
To help him on his way.
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Love Can Last Forever (by: Deb Plouse Fulton)
I can honestly say it was the best of times and the worst of times. I was joyfully expecting my first child at the same time that my once-energetic, zestful mother was losing her battle with a brain tumor.
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Red Envelope, The (by: Nancy N. Rue)
Slice. Scoop. Plop. I don't feel like doing this. Slice. Scoop. Plop. I don't want to do this. I don't want to shop . . . Slice. Scoop. Plop. I don't want to decorate. I just want to skip it . . . Slice. Scoop. Plop. And pretend I didn't notice this year.
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Slingshot, The (by: Jennifer Oliver)
"Mrs. Oliver," he said, tapping the screen of the ultrasound monitor. "Here's the problem."
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