She Always Had A Name: Remembering Photini
It happens every few months: someone at the parish where I work will ask me what my name is.
It happens every few months: someone at the parish where I work will ask me what my name is.
As I sipped my coffee this morning, my son and husband were hunched over the New York Times. We all were discussing the deliberation of the Derek Chauvin trial. Soon we begin listing the recent cases of police brutality in our country.