March 1992

Readers Write

Aging

A drawing on a napkin, a motorcycle helmet, a sound never heard before

By Our Readers
Quotations

Sunbeams

Nor is it certain how long you will live. . . . Your life is like the flame of a butter lamp in a hurricane, a bubble on water, or a drop of dew on a blade of grass.

Kalu Rinpoche

Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Growing Old Is Not For Sissies

Sister Marion is a principal of a Catholic school. The fastest 56-year-old woman in the world, she is appropriately referred to as “The Flying Nun.”

By Etta Clark
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Step By Step

To live without suffering means to live always in the present. The highest happiness is here and now. There is no time at all unless we cling to it. Brothers and sisters, please eat time!

By Maha Ghosananda
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

The Ward

The first noise was hardly audible, like the whimper of a child so hurt that the wounds had to speak, a primal crying that went far deeper than language. The hurt had lost all anger and selfishness; it spoke only of its existence, incapable of any control, gurgling its rawness.

By Bruce Mitchell
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Buried Stories

The idea that a person’s past could unconsciously and dramatically influence the present used to make me smirk.

By Keith Russell Ablow
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

The Dig

After a day in an archaeological excavation unit, surrounded by a stratigraphic picture two meters deep, you realize the present era, like the prehistoric community you’ve become a part of, will soon be just another layer chronicled in soil.

By James B. Angell
Fiction

Unarmed

Mac took twenty toothpicks out of his pocket and built a fort around his beer. He didn’t want to look at Eddie. He knew Eddie was headed for trouble.

By Deborah Shouse
Fiction

Blue Avenue

We sit in the sunlit breakfast room of our apartment, in white terry-cloth robes that have our initials monogrammed in navy just above our hearts.

By Susan Wolf Johnson