Healed into a wheelchair
She wheeled me through the exhibits in the chair we’d borrowed from the front desk. It felt to me like a miracle: not that I was in the chair—I’d needed…
Fighting seated
Some fight for freedom in army boots, their feet fitted to stand. For them I am deeply grateful.Others fight bravely by the choice to sit still, defying the voices that…
Grieving to fly free
She speaks of grieving as praying our goodbyes. Sometimes what needs to be prayed and set free comes as a surprise. I can still see the magenta blood pooling at…