by Sharon Kunin, Minnesota
Maybe a little like meeting God, through feather, fur, or fluttery thing. To be judged not for words, but by the timbre of my voice. Not for ability, but by gentleness of my touch. And not for knowledge, but by the Light that shines from my eyes. To be loved for the nature of my heart.
By Dana Lovell, Minnesota
One morning, my friend Karina and I did a spiritual exercise that contains the question, What do you know as truth? (See the Contemplation Seed at the end of this story.)
By Faranak Toma, Minnesota
I am originally from an ancient nomadic tribe in the Middle East. My tribe used to live in a mountainous area till a couple hundred years ago, when they started to settle down in villages and cities. But they have kept their culture, their language, and their connection with each other.
By Mark Brooks, California
Our beloved Fluffy came into our lives as a stray kitten. She was a beautiful calico tabby with piercing yellow-green eyes and a tiny splotch of orange on the top of her head. She simply showed up one day in our backyard in the late summer and never left! (She chose us!)
By Peter Akpokodje, Lagos, Nigeria
Recently I have been thinking about the reason we exist in this world. I kept the thought lightly on my mind. I wondered, What is love? What is my purpose?
By Russell Henderson, Oregon
The horse who became my cherished friend had helped me heal from the loss of my wife. How would Divine Spirit guide me through saying good-bye to him?