Charles Dickens
A Pandemic Letter to My 17-Year-Old Son
Aug 30, 2020-- "Starting when you were just a toddler, you'd crawl into my lap to play a game. I'd lay hands on each part of your body, naming it aloud. Wed begin with the grass of hair on your head and slowly work our way down to your piggy toes. You soon learned even the regions of your brain, the organs in your torso, and your seven chakras." So begins a touching letter written by a mother to her 17-year-old son in the midst of these uncertain times. (10580 reads)
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At home, I serve the kind of food I know the story behind.
Michael Pollen
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