AFTER I FINALLY WRAPPED my six-year-old head around the use of the double “that” in a sentence and agonizingly extrapolated the definition of “fib” from a difficult Franklin the Turtle read, I discovered that there... Read More

I BELONG TO A REALLY exclusive club—but not by choice. Eleven years ago I “escaped” from a hospice program and became one of the few lucky survivors who still walk this good earth. Before I... Read More

I LOVED MY MOTHER. I’m sure you love your mother, too. Joan Adele Rice Naff (1931-2015) would be indignant to find clichés here, so let’s muscle the mush out of the way. She died December... Read More

In Their Own Words: Humanists Discuss Their Paths to Humanism I WAS SIX YEARS OLD and stricken with grief over the recent death of my dearly beloved dog. Our minister dropped by to visit my... Read More

In Their Own Words: Humanists Discuss Their Paths to Humanism AT 2:30 A.M. on November 2, 2014, I received a call from my sister in Scotland. “Hamish,” Marji said, “they’re gone. They’re both gone.” It... Read More

In Their Own Words: Humanists Discuss Their Paths to Humanism LAST YEAR, the Saints Prison Ministry softball team came to Sheridan Federal Correctional Institution in Oregon. Based out of Moorestown, New Jersey, the Saints usually... Read More

I paced the living room, charged with fear and frustration, but I wasn’t going to find my lost faith in the sofa cushions. There was no unpopping the bubble that protected my mind, and my... Read More