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Balance At the Barre Between Two Couplets, 1975-1988 The core of balance, strong and deep Secrets that the barre would keep. I learned the lesson there in youth A steady, undeniable truth. The metal rail felt cool beneath my fingers, a cold, firm contract with gravity. It wasn't just the height of the leg in the battement, or the perfect angle of the arabesque. It was the mental discipline of the tendu, pushing the foot out a thousand times until it was effortless; the unwave

Nativity, at Night, A Christmas Poem Inspired by the Art of the Same Title of Geertgen tot Sint Jans, 1490 (Written for a poetry contest) Dedicated to Dana Adkerson Beneath a Northern star, his life cut short, Geertgen tot Sint Jans, of Netherlandish sort. An oak wood sheet, his genius would proclaim, He built his Christmas mystery for fame. Inspired by faith, the artist sought to spread The holy words that Saint Bridget had said. She saw a light no earthly sun could

With the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence happening in July, I started a passion project a year ago: to discover thirteen men from diverse backgrounds who fought for our freedom in the American Revolution! We all know our "Founding Fathers," but what about our "Forgotten Fathers?" These men that I feature are not the blonde, blue-eyed Protestants that most of us grew up learning about. No, I took thirteen men who were Muslim, African America

Flag Day, 2026/From Revelry and Reflections by Anne Hendricks, 2026 A schoolhouse room in eighteen-eighty-five, Where Wisconsin’s spirit came alive. Cigrand’s intent, a lesson plain To plant a love that would remain; To teach the young, in reverence deep, The history that we have to keep. But now in two thousand twenty-six, we gaze Through all the noise and modern haze. Can we regain that quiet pride, When unity feels cast aside? Perhaps if we look back to see The seeds of si

History has a way of burying its darkest secrets in the shallowest of graves. For decades, the story of Ben Chester White was one of those secrets—a narrative of calculated cruelty meant to disappear into the mud of Mississippi. But the earth does not always keep what is hidden, and justice, while agonizingly slow, has a way of surfacing. This is the story of a man whose murder was intended to be a spark for a fire that never ignited, and the family who spent a lifetime ensur

Some of the most interesting stories come from the quieter parts of history, where a person’s true self is found in the music they played and the connections they made. Billy Tipton was a gifted musician whose life, both on and off stage, was as rich and complex as the jazz he loved... ​ Billy Tipton was born Dorothy Lucille Tipton on December 29, 1914, in Oklahoma City. He grew up in a time when being different was not widely accepted. From early on, Billy showed a real tale

A nation's breath beneath the burning sun, Where hope and weary prayers are spun. We lay the United States, our home, our fray, Upon this altar at the close of day. The Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ we invoke, To heal the heavy chains of every yoke, Inviting grace to mend the fractured land, And guide us with a firm, compassionate hand. Asking that hope be more than passing light, But strength to pull us from the edge of night, To trade our pride for peace that will not cease,

For years now, I have researched and written a series of short stories entitled "Killing Kennedys," a direct quote from something Jackie Kennedy Onassis once said. I also have a series of short stories in that series about the many women victimized by the Kennedy men and the machine in and around them. This is one. Today would have been the 100th birthday of Marilyn Monroe, and in her memory, here is my story, based on years and years of research and study, on how I believe M

Hail Mary, full of grace... The gold light of a Roman evening settles over the Vatican Gardens, hushing the day into a soft, holy quiet. The Holy Father bows his head, fingers resting on the wooden beads, the bells of the city ringing for peace. The Lord is with thee... He speaks of torn spirits and aching hearts, of the weary and the outworn. "The Lord is never far away," he tells us, "He comes in search of us even when we lose our way." He calls us to be instruments

The morning rain pours down like heavy tears, To wake a memory lost for all the years. I hold a piece of plastic and metal in the garage, amidst the cardboard and the inventory of a routine evening, and feel the sudden jolt of a lightning rod. There it sat, on the very top of the plastic tub a tiny, forgotten echo from a CVS aisle in Griffin, where my father once laughed out loud, seeing

Dust off your sunbonnets and get the wagon ready because the Ingalls family is officially returning to our screens. After years of rumors and speculation, Netflix has confirmed that we are headed back to the frontier. Whether you grew up watching Michael Landon’s iconic portrayal or reading Laura Ingalls Wilder’s beloved books, there is plenty of reason to be excited about this new adaptation. Netflix has officially set the release date for the first season of Little House on

To My Ian I take down April’s memories, Of six and twenty years ago, When heavy clouds hung dark and full, And rain began to flow. I felt a weight depart from me, A sudden, hollow fear "Is he alive?" I screamed, afraid, That you were no longer near. For silence filled the heavy room, As shadows of a loss once felt Stirred within the sudden gloom, And all my courage dealt. But you were being warmed and held, While your father, in the grace Of those years when love was still ou

Ballet was the worst mistake of my life. From age six to fifteen, a return at eighteen, and one final push from twenty-one to twenty-two—I blew my knees out at twenty-one trying to find my way back to the stage. The truth? I sucked at dancing. But I made lifelong friends, and I lost my knees. Years later, during a high-risk pregnancy, I gained eighty pounds. I thought the weight would just come off, but I never saw 140 again. By the time Pop died two years ago, I was 276. I w

The rhythm of the season begins not with a purchase but with a palm full of dirt a quiet defiance against the fluorescent hum of grocery aisles it is the art of turning a handful of copper colored seeds into a summer of abundance There is a distinct grounding magic in watching a dollar’s worth of effort stretch into baskets of heavy sun warmed tomatoes and greens that snap with life the budget breathes easier here the receipt is written in sweat and rain instead of ink cuttin

In shades of pink and morning dew. The weeping willows softly sway, Above the pond where light will play. No edges frame the quiet scene, Just shifting clouds and murky green. The garden breathes in silent oil, Released from every earthly toil. #monet #poetry #Impressionist

La Pietà: A Villanelle for Good Friday, 2018 By Anne Hendricks, M.Ed. and Edited by John T. Hendricks, Ph.D. (In Style of Dylan Thomas) The marble breathes a mother’s heavy grace, To hold the silent Word upon her knee. The light of Easter hides its morning face. No lines of anguish mar his quiet face, From every debt of soul and flesh set free. The marble breathes a mother’s heavy grace. She keeps her station in this hollow space, A monument to love’s dark decree. The light

What is a pangram? A pangram is a sentence that contains every letter of the alphabet at least once. Pangrams are often used in typography, calligraphy, and testing fonts, as they provide a comprehensive representation of the alphabet. What is an example of a pangram? An example of a well-known pangram is: "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog." This sentence includes all 26 letters of the English alphabet. The cozy, fluffy Easter bunny jumped over six quick, waxed

Easter Sunday in the Deep South has long been a day of tradition, family gatherings, and, notably, the wearing of special dresses. These dresses are more than just clothing; they represent cultural values, social status, and personal memories. Reflecting on my own childhood in the 1970s and observing how Easter dresses have changed over the decades reveals a fascinating story of fashion, identity, and community in this unique region. The 1970s: Classic Elegance and Tradition

The morning light fell soft and still, Upon the stone and window sill. A sudden brightness filled the room, To chase away the quiet gloom. An angel stood with wings of white, Reflecting God’s eternal light. He spoke a word of grace and love, Sent down from holy realms above. Though startled by the heavenly guest, She felt a sense of peace in her chest. "Behold the handmaid," Mary said, A s golden rays shone round her head. With a gentle heart, she gave her vow, To which the

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” — Matthew 6:34 (New King James Version) In the quiet of my study in Corinth, Mississippi, these words are not merely a suggestion; they are a retaining wall. The silence in this house has a physical weight, the pressurized echo chamber of a modern sociological craze that has redefined the American family's landscape. I am the mother of an only adul