Dear Everyone,

Thank you for your condolences and prayers. Condolences + to share sorrow = compassion. A beloved friend sent us this Greek word: Silipitria. I am told it means ‘to mourn with’ those who are experiencing a great loss, to feel it deeply, personally. Like compassion, to walk through someone's suffering with them. It's very Christ-like.

It's a love story, raw and rough. But first, the ending -- the little girl is safe. Well, that's not totally true, but she's got a promise and she believes the promise. That's important.

Dear everyone,

We have just finished the great month of August – the month the ancient Druids celebrated the feast of Mother Earth, and we celebrate Our Mother Mary, also Mother of the Earth, and all the living. And we celebrate our children – our children living in the house with us, and of course the 3,000 children who live in their homes.

The bloom was off our Rose -- but for only a few minutes. She didn't die. It happened this past June 19, a Sunday. A sudden-death horror story. Almost. It began and ended in five minutes. Literally. Five minutes. But she lived.

He's the slum kid who once boasted, "I can write my own name." And he learned how to spell. That was a while ago, when he was six. He's 20 now, and his aptitude and fine penmanship served him well during the 18 months he served in juvenile prison. He'd pen letters for prisoners and guards -- a skill and a favour earning him "an edge" in a place where edges save you.