My annual school fair always brings back a flood of memories—kids rushing with caramel apples, handmade crafts, and the unmistakable scent of churros drifting through
The old community center kitchen had seen better days – scratched countertops, mismatched baking sheets, and a fridge that groaned louder than the gym floorboards.
A couple of weeks ago, my granddaughter came home from school clutching a wrinkled piece of construction paper covered in marker hearts and stick figures.
Last fall, I spent a few quiet weeks helping my niece settle into her first apartment just outside Minneapolis. She’d landed her first teaching job—third