“Pack this lunchbox,” I heard the voice say. And there, before me was a wicker box, square, woven securely together, deeper than it appeared when I first opened it and peered inside. It never occurred to me that I should be handed any other sort of lunch box – not the metal barn-roofed ones that … Continue reading Out of lunch baskets come memories
Complexities sort themselves out; blurred ideas sharpen; clarity comes. And with that, insight – sometimes poignant, even sad, sometimes joyful, usually true.
This is what it looks like when an stranger becomes an acquaintance and then a friend.