by M. H. Niemann
Texas, USA
It was too early and still dark at 5:30 a.m. as I drove through Houston, Texas on the way to my parents’ house for our 2008 Thanksgiving dinner.
The stories of HeroicStories.
by M. H. Niemann
Texas, USA
It was too early and still dark at 5:30 a.m. as I drove through Houston, Texas on the way to my parents’ house for our 2008 Thanksgiving dinner.
by Betty J Rosentrater
California, USA
My sons — hyperactive, red-haired Ray and super-sensitive, artistic Eldon — were excited and happy. At four and six they no longer needed to tiptoe quietly through the house during the day while their Poppy slept. Finally, the family could eat breakfast together. And he would be back home in time for play before supper. My husband had been working night shift setting type at a publishing house in Kansas City, Missouri. But now that wretched night shift was at an end.
by Dawn
North Carolina, USA
Several years ago we moved to North Carolina. My husband headed to his new job, and I remained behind to sell our house and arrange the move. During this stressful time there was one crisis after another, including a dear friend’s suicide.
Nicole Koon
Arizona, USA
My son experiences social challenges due to having autism. We often see how he is different from those around him, but on one particular afternoon, we got to see how much he is the same, thanks to some amazing middle school kids.
by Andara Bledin
California, USA
In the late ’80s, my brother, David, barely a teenager, took his first long trip on his own, to visit my grandmother.
by Linda Gavitt
Connecticut, USA
In January 1999 planning for my daughter’s wedding began with a phone call telling me she and John would marry in March — leaving little time to plan! Fortunately Lauren wanted a small wedding with 20-30 close friends and relatives. She was in Orlando, Florida, John was stationed in Kentucky, and I was in Connecticut. Her finance’s family generously offered their help to plan everything, and their Tampa area home for the reception.
by The Caroler
California, USA
In 1990, as was our family tradition, my husband and I invited children from the local high school aCappella choir, including our son, to sing Christmas Carols to people we felt could use some special Christmas cheer. My husband dressed up as Santa Claus and drove a rented flat bed truck.
by Lisa Swindler
South Carolina, USA
In 1998, a week before Thanksgiving, I took our 10-month-old baby daughter to the doctor for a check-up. The nurse commented how well she looked. Fifteen minutes later we were headed to the hospital emergency room. Ruth’s oxygen level was below 90 and she was having difficulty breathing. It was her fourth hospitalization that year.
By Patty Mooney
California, USA
It’s been many years since I have had to stand on the end of Pusheck Road in Bellwood, a suburb of Chicago, waiting for the school bus, and yet I remember one special day as though it were yesterday.
by Jeff Simms
Barnegat, New Jersey, USA
It was a nippy Fall day — our favorite kind of weather. It was Saturday and we were going to have a great time. My divorced mother, two younger brothers and I were on our way to the park at the other end of the small Jersey town we lived in. We had our football and makeshift goal posts in the back of the station wagon and our teams already chosen: us against our mother. (Don’t worry, it was only touch football.)