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"Houses for Migrants" Fragment of a memoir. When I really, really wanted to do good in the world, but had no idea how . . . youtu.be/HtD9jsfwdGI?si…

Summer at a Quaker work camp in rural Michigan marked my first exposure to girls. Having attended all-boys schools, I was no Lothario, but I did form several friendships that lasted beyond the summer. The first of these, Sue Ann, was a sweet and inquisitive local high school

As a freshman at Harvard, I loved learning Russian. I loved studying history. I loved reading Trotsky and Bulgakov. Every week, I looked forward to the hour I spent with my tutor, Tom Gleason. I even enjoyed freshman biology, not because I liked early-morning lectures on

In the scorching summer of 1968, I played outdoors with four autistic boys from morning to midafternoon. It was a summer of uneasy detente with my father. I didn’t harangue him about theories about Russia I’d learned freshman year, and he didn’t harangue me about the anti-Vietnam

In those days, around Harvard Square, nearly everyone had literary leanings. They haunted avant-garde bookshops. They wrote short stories and novels and poetry. They gathered in dorm rooms and sandwich shops to talk about the state of high culture. In the spring of 1968 I was one

Love this story about raising children for independence, Swiss style. What's the downside I'm missing? sg.news.yahoo.com/moved-back-us-…

In the fall of 1968, Erik Erikson was one of my intellectual heroes. I desperately wanted to take the course he offered in the auditorium of Harvard’s Sever Hall—so desperately that in spite of not being able to register, I showed up early for the first class to plead to be let

Dangerous organization. Still going strong after 60 years. Read about personal experience at tinyurl.com/nh2djn3z.

I never felt so happy, contented, and satisfied as when the county outreach nurse came over to visit me and my new-born daughter because of her birth defect, and I realized we didn't need the help that she kindly offered. tinyurl.com/cus2wmrx

They were into witch craft, the occult, and New Age fantasies . . . until they found God. Read more at emptygraveministries.com.

When my children were young, we spent a lot of time at playgrounds, and it was there, among strangers, that I met parents outside my own social network and heard harrowing stories of families whose burdens were far heavier than my own. tinyurl.com/4jhf8xf3

I couldn't do it alone . . . A new career, a shaky ladder, panic attacks! tinyurl.com/2ervad4e

I found this kindred spirit in the Syracuse University archives. What we're living through today, he foresaw in the 1910's and 20's. tinyurl.com/2y5b9ew3

As an agnostic, I had a hard time wrapping my head around Jack's argument for Biblical marriage. Read more . . . tinyurl.com/5n92kbex

You nailed it, Kamala. +80% in one week. Couldn't have happened without you.

The birth of my children + Michael Stocker's philosophy course convinced me God must exist. tinyurl.com/2z943b6c

Pulling my son and daughter out of elementary school changed their life—and mine. tinyurl.com/4pjpdm58

God knows the future. I struggled to wrap my head around that. This 80-something professor helped me. Read more: tinyurl.com/368337hk

I knew of God, but I didn't know God. But He knew me, and He knew where the road ahead of me led . . . Read more: tinyurl.com/2rp4zsy9

In my early twenties, during the Vietnam War activist, I thought the only way to pursue justice was to tear down America. God had other plans for me. medium.com/@clhowell49/hu…