WEEKLY DEVOS

I was raised on a tiny farm in rural Fairfield County. Its cedar shake farm house with Gambrel roof and dormers sat proudly on a high hill providing a beautiful vista in all directions. It wasn’t uncommon for first time visitors to step from their car and mutter,...

At the same intersection, at the same time, Marilyn and I have crossed paths with the same school bus driver on our way to the church office. And each time he has given us a great big wave—like he’s known us all his life! The first time, we both waved back tenuously...

Dad stored his farm tractor and tools along with an array of broken bicycles, worn out lawn mowers and miscellaneous junk in what we euphemistically called “the garage.” It wasn’t actually a garage but a buggy shed built long before the invention of the Model T....

I stopped at the convenience store on my way home from the office to pick up a few essentials like Oreo cookies and milk. As I stepped from my car I noticed a black and white cat hanging around the store entrance begging to get in. I recognized him as Rico, my...

Teenage boys fell hopelessly in love with tail-finned, pastel-colored, mechanized pieces art in the 1950’s, the honeymoon of the American car culture. The caress of the large diameter steering wheel of a mid-fifties automobile released an infusion of freedom and...

I was just five years old when I learned to shift for myself. Somehow I’d won the rare privilege of riding in the front seat of our 1952 Mercury with Mom and Dad. The long couch-like front seat stretched from door to door, soft coil-springs covered in scratchy wool...