Proof The Bible Is True

Temperatures dropped, but no matter. Our house was warm as toast. I put finishing touches on the holiday decorations. Jackson, our Yorkshire terrier, watched me hang my stocking, then Bill’s. He cocked his head. “Do you think I’d forget you on Christmas Eve?” I pulled out the plaid stocking with “Jackson” embroidered at the top and hung it next to ours. Jackson wagged his tail. He might not have been able to read his name, but after 15 years he knew his stocking. I snaked some garland into the hallway. A pile of Christmas cards lay on the side table [More]

With every nerve in my body tensed, I hurried down the dark streets of San Francisco’s Mission District. Frightening even in the daytime, the neighborhood took on a sinister life of its own in the early morning hours. Only an emergency would have gotten me into those filthy alleyways at 2 a.m., and that was exactly why I was there that night in 1956. Clutched in my hand was my third-grade report card. It had to be signed for school the next day; “No excuses,” my teacher had warned. So I had to find my mother. Read More An Unlikely [More]

Baseball is a tradition in my family. Some of my best memories growing up were the days my dad took my brother and me on the 90-minute drive to San Francisco to see the San Francisco Giants play at Candlestick Park. We saw a lot of baseball history being made, like when Willie Mays and the Giants won the National League pennant in 1962. When I had my first child, Zach, Paw—as Zach called him—had another youngster to school in all things baseball. Unfortunately, by the time Zach was old enough to go to games Paw could no longer go. [More]

Sports have been part of my life ever since I was a little girl in Gloversville, New York. I was in the pool at the Y every chance I got. I begged my parents for a bike like the big kids, but I was five and had to start with training wheels. It was a great day when Daddy took those wheels off. “Here you go,” he said. He gave me a big push on my back. His hands were gentle, but strong. I knew he believed I could do it. There I was, holding on, holding on, wobbling on [More]

What made me ask my wife about angels that Saturday morning, I couldn’t say. Anne and I were just finishing up our breakfast in the kitchen. “Honey, I have a question for you,” I said, looking her in the eye. “Do you believe in guardian angels?” Anne seemed puzzled for a moment, then regained her composure. “I believe in myself!” she announced. Between the two of us, Anne was the practical one. She had a good sense of her own abilities, and there was very little she couldn’t handle. I, on the other hand, had always relied on higher powers [More]

My girlfriend, Dawn, and I stayed out late into the night not long after New Year’s Day 1996. It was snowing heavily when we got into my car, and we decided to go only as far as my mother’s house, about 10 miles away. I drove slowly, the headlights of my compact boring white tunnels in the swirling flakes. Around 1:30 a.m., about a half hour after setting out, we turned onto Mom’s road in a rural area near the northern Minnesota town of Walker. There were only a couple of dwellings on the two-mile stretch leading to her house, [More]