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Life is too short for boring stories

It was the second Sunday in May on which Mother’s Day is traditionally celebrated. It was warm and sunny, so my children and I went for a walk to sit relaxed on the terrace of a cafe. We chatted about this and that, while it was not to be overlooked that there was a heated …

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It happened to me again the other day. Although I can admit that I’m getting better and better in control, I’m still not perfect and I’m still not as good as I should be, and that’s why there are a few slip-ups. I solemnly promise improvement. It happened again. I stood in the kitchen and …

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„That’s not work!“ Was the sentence in her family. When she was very small, she was put on her chair while the parents did what was work. Sometimes she also came to the grandparents. „After all, they have nothing to do,“ they said, „They can drive all day Saturday, Sunday around, just for fun, while …

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„You’ve made a great meal, Mary!“ I said, still tasting the enjoyment as I stood in the kitchen doing the dishes with Jesus. „Yes, really,“ Jesus affirmed, adding with a wink, „Have you ever noticed that there is always too little cooking of goodies?“ „Sure, you’ve dusted most of the good food,“ Mary remarked amused, …

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The closer the big day came, the more restless I became. The big day, whatever that meant. Somewhere in me, resistance spread, because only by the fact that I made so many thoughts about it, day after day, now for almost three weeks, it was getting bigger, almost overwhelming. In addition, I wanted to find …

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It had actually snowed, apparently all night and it did not stop. No ordinary sight in that area. Hope and her babies were a little confused, but also curious. They poked their noses in the snow. There was so much to smell, as if the smells in the snow were even more intense. Joy played …

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A vague memory. Also, a little painful. To havelost the innocence. First, the story with the Christ Child. „The Christ Child brings the presents,“ I was told, as were millions of other children. And then they send you away, because Mama is cleaning up the tree and putting the presents underneath. You cannot see it. …

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it was no longer possible to negate it. I cannot go back, past a once-done experience. I can no longer ignore it and no longer pretend that nothing is. The beautifully packaged pork chop, clean and pretentious is the part of a cadaver, who belonged to a pig, who lived from the beginning to the …

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