An eighteen-year mystery has been solved;
Defining Labor Day;
A Labor of Love
The Lost Has Been Found!
An eighteen-year mystery has been solved For eighteen years they thought her deadand as they passed her empty bed,her mom and dad would visualizethe nightmare of that day. For eighteen years they hoped and prayedthat justice would at last be paid.That those who kidnapped one so lovedwould suffer for their crime. For eighteen years they tried in vainto keep their marriage free from blame.The stress that’s born of tragedywould shatter vows they made. But eighteen years have come and goneand now they’ve learned their little blondeis twenty-nine, the mom of twoand very much alive. Eighteen long years and no one knew.The case was closed. There were no clues.But just like that…. a miracle.Who says that prayer’s a waste?
* On August 27, 2009 Jaycee Lee Dugard was found in Antioch, CA after having been kidnapped as an eleven year old in 1991. Amazingly, my family was living about five miles from where this young woman was kept in a maze of tents and shelters in the backyard of her abductor. We had no idea that such a horrid crime was being played out “in our backyard.”
Defining Labor Day
Working at understanding this day-off
It’s a day devoid of labor
so that family, friends and neighbors
can enjoy an outdoor barbecue
of burgers, brats and beer.
It’s a day meant for thanks-giving
for the means to make a living
in an up-for-grabs economy
where unemployment’s high.
It’s a day for closing cabins
where our summer chillin’ happens
near the ocean, lake or mountains
or just where life’s simpler.
It’s a day when classroom teachers
contemplate what kind of creatures
will confront them as they stand before
those rows and rows of desks.
It’s a day to greet September
while we look back and remember
how much fun we had with those we love
before we had to part.
A Labor of Love
A tribute to America’s firefighters
We have heard of tragic wildfires.
We have heard of houses lost.
We have heard of those who dare the odds
to drown a living hell.
When the sky is black with clouds of smoke,
when the hills are orange with fire,
when the untamed flames break free and dance,
not all are spectators.
There are those whose job is saving lives.
There are those who feel the heat.
There are those who face what others flee
and fight it to the death.
What they do demands a hero’s heart.
What they fear is hard to say.
What they love is snuffing danger out.
They risk so we are safe.
Here’s to firefighters I have known.
Here’s to those who died too soon.
Here’s to those who live each day God gives
in love with what they do.