One Last Message

I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Mom.

By NANCY VECILLA, New York, New York

Mom’s funeral had been that morning. Now my siblings, stepfather and I were all gathered around her dining room table, sharing stories about Mom, trying to distract ourselves from the pain of losing her.

My four-year-old niece Kim, too young to understand what was going on, sat in my sister Diana’s lap, a pencil in hand, scribbling furiously in a coloring book. Where did she get that? I wondered, sure her mom hadn’t brought it to the gravesite earlier that day.

I sat at the table, too worn out to do anything but watch Kim making spirals in her book. Finally my niece got bored, laid the book face up on the table and slid down off my sister’s lap. I looked closer at the page. With the book ly... Read More

Right By My Side

I hated to fly anyway, but now that our plane had mechanical problems, I was a wreck. Read Now

Rescued on the Prairie

I was driving in fog so thick I couldn’t see anything. Suddenly I was at a curve, too late to make the turn! Read Now