There is nothing like an odor to stir memories.

Then he reminded himself that he was already part of the biggest adventure ever, and that, so far, it had been altogether miserable.

I thought of the parable of the prodigal son. We had made merry for the beloved child's return too - but what happens when the beloved child doesn't say she's sorry? The parable doesn't talk about that. Jesus figures of course you're sorry. Jesus, I thought, you blew it. Not everybody is sorry.

Looking through the tiny hole that doesn’t see me. I want to be seen even for a second.

Written By Sasha Richards

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