Hard Living

I’ve got it so easy. Here I sit in my comfy chair sipping a cup of flavored coffee, thinking about my ancestors. Those people had some hard living! My great grandfather, Lester Dudley “LD” Moore, came to Colorado in 1910. He and his brothers and father, and some other relatives, came here because their dad had tuberculosis, and the Colorado air was supposed to help. Like most homesteaders, they worked

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Deep Red, Chapter Twenty-Nine

←Chapter Twenty-Eight   July 27, 1970: my mom gave me this journal for my 10th birthday. She told me to write all my important thoughts in it. I told her I wanted a little brother or sister–or even a dog–more than a blank book, and she said, “Cayces have a long tradition of record-keeping through journaling, Bobbi, and you should continue that tradition.” I asked her if I could read her journal and

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Viktor Frankl on the Last of the Human Freedoms

We who lived in the concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.

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