We love our sisters, The Afghan women; The mothers with their daughters, The daughters with their sons. With voices shackled, And education, and vocation . . . It’s all too much to comprehend. And yet we must. We foreigners, are peeking Into their forlorn world, With almost half the babies suffering With stunted brain andContinue reading “Climbing Out of Sorrow“
Short stories, poetry, and excerpts of God's healing
Purple Pennies 