DiaBLOGue

Dinner at Sylvia’s

April 11, 2018

I was in a school bus with fifty other adults headed down to Harlem. At the time, we didn’t know our destination. The invitation had read only, “April Fool’s Day Party.” Our host, the former bishop, was known for his generosity and love of good times, so the turnout had been high. The mysteriousness of the affair, combined with the capacity of a yellow school bus to bring out the fifth grader in anyone, succeeded in creating a festive atmosphere. There we were, all dressed up in our sacrament meeting clothes, giggling, flirting, talking too loud. 

Variation on a Love Letter

April 11, 2018

I have written this letter to you before 
and I will write this letter to you again. 
In it I tell you that the days are starkly blue
and unbearably warm, that the cooling storms

The Book Handed Her

April 11, 2018

Wanting to be one of twelve princesses 
to disappear down a trap door 
underneath her bed each night 
and dance to weariness in a haunted place 

Winter Fast Offerings

April 11, 2018

When no one was faking sick, we were nine — 
just enough to cover the routes if someone 
doubled up. We argued over the packets, 
weighing thickness against distance, 

Ethnic Groups and the LDS Church

April 11, 2018

Dialogue 25.4 (Winter 1992): 81–96
A history of ethnic wards and branches as the church struggled with integration vs. segregation of immigrant communities.

Living Histories: Selected Biographies from the Manhattan First Ward

April 11, 2018

Two years ago the Manhattan First Ward published a small collection of biographies chronicling the lives of nine senior ward members. Impetus for the project came when news reached Bill Cottam during his initial year as First Ward bishop that several older members had died.

Entire Unto Himself

April 11, 2018

Already cold and stiff by the time I arrived, 
It was a shallow shadow, gray against black; 
A collar of blood fringed its matted coat.