Fiction from the Ragged Edge of Faith
Sing with me — ♩ She’ll be flying through the window when she comes… One of the things that brings me joy is singing with kids. I’ve played guitar and led kids in songs at summer day camp, church camp, and
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The Strawberry Festival is over, but fortunately the Keweenaw is still producing the little red berries. It’s some solace in a summer that’s slow in coming. In Snow Country, Beth found hope in Pastor Chip’s words. “It’s going to take
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As we celebrate Mother’s Day, we honor the many women who have shaped our lives and have had sisu to persevere through the winters of life.
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“Hyvää päivää.” “Where you live?” “Out Mohawk way.” “Yous get lots of snow dere, hey.” “Yeah, we woke to two feet today. I scooped myself out then drove Hough’on, but dey hardly got none.” I didn’t think I had an
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Many American Finns, descendants of 19th and early-20th century immigrants, retained several Finnish words in their family cultures. I remember my grandma calling me something like “bego boyga.” She would never translate for me, so I could only surmise it
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“So I was sitting on the couch looking out the window at a woman getting out of a burgundy truck. I was thinking, What? Is she here to read the meter? Then I see her walking back to her truck
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She pulled into the driveway and her headlights lit up the Johnson’s sauna. Smoke curled out of its chimney and a bright window lit the white bark of a birch tree next to it. She got out of her car.
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“Beth drove Grandma over the old, double-decker Lift Bridge as snowmobile traffic passed underneath on what was once a railroad track carrying ore off Copper Island.” ~ Snow Country The old Finns called it Kuparisaari, Copper Island. It was an
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