Years ago my husband left me at the beginning of November. Being left was sad enough, but when I realized I was going to have to go through all the holidays by myself, it felt like it was too much to bear. I called a friend of mine who is a Christian Science practitioner in tears. She surprised me by saying, “Oh Christmas, it’s either too happy or too sad.” I got the sad part, but too happy? Could Christmas—or anything—be too happy???  But as she went on, I got her point. You can get so caught up in all the preparations—the gift buying and wrapping, the decorating, the cooking, and on and on, that you completely miss what Christmas is really all about. I didn’t think so at first, but that’s worse than missing a husband! (more…)

The clock struck 12:00. Merry Christmas, I whispered to myself, feeling the warmth of the first teardrop trickling down my cheek. As I lay awake staring at the ceiling, the room’s darkness mirrored, even magnified, how I was feeling inside. This would be my first Christmas away from home, and it was as if the holiday spirit had been knocked right out of me.

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My family usually does fun, corny Christmas cards in which all of the (now grown-up) kids are in costume and smiling under a slew of puns about the holidays and the New Year. This year’s card, while still fun and corny, has got a different feel to it. I can’t say too much – or it’ll ruin the surprise for everybody – but the tone is a little more sincere. (more…)

by Clementine Lue Clark

Along with many other parents of young children, I’ve been thinking about my baby, Alma, sleeping through the night.

One of the practical things we’ve tried to do is to stick to a nightly bedtime routine. We give her a bath, read her a story, sing a song, swaddle her, and say a prayer. Often the prayer is “A Verse for the Little Children” (Mary Baker Eddy, Miscellaneous Writings, p. 400):

Father-Mother God,
Loving me,—
Guard me when I sleep;
Guide my little feet
Up to Thee.

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by Clementine Lue Clark

Last week my 3-month-old woke up crying at 3:30 a.m. I fed and changed her and put her back in her bed to sleep. But she didn’t seem satisfied and starting crying even harder.

I knew that all her needs were met, but she wanted me to hold her. I didn’t want to pick her up and get her in the habit of being picked up and walked around at the wee hours of the morning. But she has recently discovered the joys of the ceiling fan, so I decided to sit under the ceiling fan, and read the weekly Bible Lesson from the Christian Science Quarterly to her.

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Emily – Christian Science Sentinel, Oct. 20, 2008

My sister and I started out together like two peas in a pod—peanut butter and jelly . . . milk and cereal. We shared a lot of the same friends, and often did a lot of activities together growing up. And it really is the same way today. But there was a time when all the camaraderie seemed to be missing.

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Anna’s Mother - Christian Science Sentinel, Dec. 3, 2007

When my daughter asked for a snake for her birthday, I gulped in dread. Ever since she was a small child, she’d been fascinated with reptiles and fearless with the ones she met at petting zoos and at pet shops. I, on the other hand, had a lifelong fear of snakes and had largely managed to avoid them. One time when I found a king snake in the greenhouse of our New Mexico home, I had to call a neighbor to remove it while I hid in another room. Disturbed as I was at the thought of living with a snake, I felt that my anxiety was not a valid enough reason to turn down my daughter’s request. She’d put in many hours of research, proving herself ready and able to care for an animal. She encouraged me by writing up pages of information with pictures of the type of snake she’d selected and spoke enthusiastically about the attractive appearance and disposition of the breed she’d chosen.

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by Steve Helmer

Well, join the club. Sadly, a lot of families live in that space. Getting the keys to the car, setting curfew, making college choices—even being the "right" kind of Christian Scientist.

As a new foster parent with teens, I’ve been thinking hard about what is fair and right and helpful—and about keeping the peace at home.

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All day long we had been seeing Border Patrol vehicles, National Guard observation posts, discarded migrant water jugs painted black, humanitarian aid stations, and brushed out tracks. We knew the US/Mexican line was getting close, but then dropping down off the Florida Mountains into the Chihuahua desert at dusk yesterday evening we could see the lights of Palomas Mexico twinkling south of us. Suddenly the border, and then end of this trip felt so immanent. It was a long, 30+ mile day, and we had time as we walked through the twilight to reflect together on things we’ve loved and the things we’ll miss most about this journey.

I’ll miss the simplicity of days on the trail together, and not having to ask the girls at the end of the day, “how was your day?” because we were together. I’ll miss the distinct feeling of teamwork in the family, working together at accomplishing something of meaning. I’ll miss the connection to the natural world, and being students together with our children of its lessons. I’ll miss the nights on the trail, cooking together, reading aloud around a little fire, sleeping all snuggled up in the tent and knowing the whole family is safe. I’ll also miss being able to answer the questions of those like the cowboy yesterday morning, “hey, what are you all doing?” with “hiking from Canada to Mexico” and hearing him respond “Well da-gum!” (more…)

(from the Medicine Bow Mountains in Wyoming to Mexico)

The sun is setting across the Florida Mountains, the last small range of peaks between us and the Mexican border just 70 miles south. Today at lunch we shared highlights with each other from this past 3 months of trekking southbound since Canada. Here are a few…

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