Dear Friends, Just as our service in honor of Tom Funk was about to close Bill Rother whispered in my ear: “Jose Feliciano is here and he wants to sing.” We were delighted. Jose and Tom had played together at nursing homes at Christmas and other times over the years.

Dear Friends, It was a beautiful day. Dry. Cool, but not cold. Twenty-six of us boarded the bus in Westport to set out for our great adventure-our pilgrimage to Boston.

Dear Friends, The Coleman memorial bench sits solidly in our memorial garden-a granite pew in Nature’s sanctuary. It’s a space made sacred by the lasting love of precious memories.

Dear Friends, There was some question about calling the choir trip to Transylvania, Hungary and Prague a religious pilgrimage. Why not simply call it a singing tour of Eastern Europe?

Dear Friends,  My friend Henry David Thoreau said, “I wish to begin this summer well, to do something in it worthy of it and of me, to transcend my daily routine; to have my immortality now in the quality of my daily life!”

Dear Friends,  We’ve been thinking about freedom. So this year’s Coming of Age trip to Boston where we walk part of the Freedom Trail, took on new and deeper meaning. Not that it takes a war with thousands of deaths to focus on freedom.

Dear Friends, The Easter basket is the focus of my earliest memories of the spring holiday. We had to find the basket, which the Easter Bunny would hide in the obvious places. Inside the basket was a bed of colored cellophane grass on which sat the chocolate eggs and bunnies, yellow marshmallow chicks, and the […]

Dear Friends, An anecdote written by a journalist in New York City who was visited by a colleague for a week is instructive. Each day they go through the same routine; they take the subway to the office, stop at the newsstand to buy morning papers, then they go to the office.

Dear Friends, I loved watching my children with Mr. Rogers. He was the epitome of a non-anxious presence.

Dear Friends, More than anything else, Christmas is about memories, many of which carry us back to the child who’s still living inside each of us–informing and influencing us more than we’re likely to realize.