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Some of the most anticipated events in our small New England town during the 1950s were patriotic observances that began on Memorial Day and stretched through the Fourth of July, especially the annual veterans' parade. We kids would string red, white and blue crepe paper strips through our bicycle spokes and attach playing card “motors” to them, held in place with clothes pins borrowed from Mom’s laundry bag. That way everybody could not only see us but hear us as we rode along beside the participants ...
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Not long ago, my nine-year-old grandson stood by amazed while I wrote a note in cursive. The smooth swoops of the curvy connected lines that somehow spelled out words and sentences seemed mysterious. I wonder how long cursive will survive after we ancient creatures of this habit are gone? Come along on this brief journey back to a time when cursive was considered cool. At least by me. - bf
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READ THE COMPLETE STORY BY CLICKING BELOW.
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USE THE PLAYER TO HEAR BRIAN READ THE STORY.
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My next-door neighbor has a dog down the street. It’s not his dog, but the pup hasn’t figured that out. So, every time my friend approaches the house where the little guy lives, the pup starts to shimmy and shake and whimper until Gordon gets there and scratches the dog’s neck. It’s quite the sight, really, which makes me think that maybe Charles Schulz was right about happiness being a warm puppy. |
| happiness_is_a_dog_named_fritz.docx | |
| File Size: | 19 kb |
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| brian_faulkner_essay_samples.docx | |
| File Size: | 17 kb |
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Sometimes life gets you wondering if and when you're ever going to work your way through whatever mess you find yourself in. If you're like me, you struggle--turning this way and that--trying to find a solution. This story considers problem solving God's way, when a childhood neighbor of mine looked up from work in her busy kitchen one sizzling summer's day to discover that her bird-in-hand had flown. |