by Linda Letger
I was still contemplating the shoes . . . and the possibility that my mother wouldn’t ever let me grow up . . . when I came through the door just behind the podium where Father Gault gave speeches. Continue reading
by Linda Letger
I was still contemplating the shoes . . . and the possibility that my mother wouldn’t ever let me grow up . . . when I came through the door just behind the podium where Father Gault gave speeches. Continue reading