Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Love Letters from Heather
To my middle child, Candice. Hey, Red! I remember the second I set eyes on you. You were just the cutest seven-year-old ever—your perfect tone of red/auburn hair, your incredible smile, and your intelligent eyes. Your foster mother gave you the nickname “Grandma” because even at such a young age, you were looking after your siblings.
By Heather Down5 years ago in Families
Gigi and granny
First day of winter this girl name Gigi, went to her grandmas house for a vacation. Of course her grandma stayed in Miami that’s the only reason she “really” wanted to go. She laughed at the thought of going because it was free for her to go and stay. She was thinking she could save money And hang with her friends. When she arrived she was greeted by her granny, they went for lunch since it was the afternoon when she got there.they talked and got all caught up, when they got to the house she told her grandm it was so nice to be there with her. Her grandma (Jean )Said yes indeed it is, she told her granddaughter she was glad because she had something to tell her.
By Sparkle Hawkins5 years ago in Families
Rob Me
My mornings aren't usually as gloomy as they are today, but today's a weird day already anyway. I'm laying in bed still, and I look over at him and he's so beautiful when he sleeps, so I quietly swing my legs over the bed and put my robe on to start my day off.
By Kaitlin Anderson5 years ago in Families
Stick
I want to start by saying that this is the best thing that I have read so far this year. Granted, we are only in the second week of February, but I would be remiss if I did not give this book the accolades that it deserves. It is no secret that I love reading Andrew Smith’s work, but there was something in this book that truly grabbed me and left me with an emotional connection the likes of which I haven’t experienced in quite a while.
By Kurt Mason5 years ago in Families
Sarah's Promise
"I'm sorry Sarah, but if we don't receive $5,000 by the end of the week, you will have to withdraw from the class. It's not fair to those wait-listed who have the funds." Sarah hung up the phone and dropped her head into her hands. But no tears fell. There were no more tears that could fall.
By Margaret Howell5 years ago in Families
Bundjalung Country.
My sense of place is forever growing and expanding. Home is a thread that stretches and curls its way to new places, but it never unravels from those places in the past. Now and then I feel the pull of this thread, and places or moments in time that I deemed lost, somehow find their way back to me. This thread, my home, is inextricably linked to people and moments that have gone and passed. All these sentiments of home stem from Bungjalung country- my country, the Midginbil people.
By Steph Louise5 years ago in Families
Live, when you are alive
It appeared as if it was just yesterday when the whole thing happened. A wave of an uncontrollable force smashed and took everything out in a minute. A minute that tumbled her life and vaporized her in such a speed that nothing else mattered, just survival. Survival for her elderly mother, daughter and more than anything else - her son.
By Ravimanivasagan K5 years ago in Families
A walk away from home
Hours of crying had tired my eyes into submission and sleep came deeply and without warning. My whole world had changed few months before my 18th birthday. Until last night I had looked forward to my upcoming holidays in India, a land that was just as mysterious for me as it was for most of the white kids in my school.
By Nidhi Dotta5 years ago in Families
The Provider
The screeches, squeals and screams of a two year old child from the adjoining room permeated the tranquility of an extremely rare, individual shower. The warm water cascaded down shoulders and arms, thicker than a few years before with muscles strong from carrying, holding and cuddling her beautiful child. Claw marks from tiny nails and a clear outline of a toothy jaw, a bite from a game gone a bit too far, was bruising a lovely yellow with green around the edges on her chin. She was so shocked when it happened, the tiny creature giggling as he clenched his jaw shut tightly, tears of pain springing to her eyes. She let out a scream and tried to pull the little thing off her, causing more giggles and an even tighter grip. The fingers raked down her chin as she tickled under the boy's arms, finally causing the jaw to release.
By Laura Carter5 years ago in Families
Financial Independence
My room is dark despite it being 3:00pm on a Tuesday in the middle of July. I closed my blinds two weeks ago to stave off the guilt of staying indoors for days on end, remembering what it was like to be depressed. But I’m not depressed, it’s just summer.
By Grace Flowers5 years ago in Families
Last year I froze my eggs. It was strange, bruising and cost a lot, but I felt set free
The first thing I felt as consciousness returned was someone patting my leg. It was my consultant surgeon, standing beside my trolley in the recovery room of one of central London’s leading fertility clinics, beaming down into my face, which I could sense was still a blank from the general anaesthetic, along with the rest of my body.
By Charlie Nicholson5 years ago in Families
Childhood memories
Yesterday I remembered my childhood abuses after listening to some old things from my brother's mouth. In which almost every Sunday of my childhood was spent. How innocent, how naive those memories are, in which childhood is spent. People tell the truth, people die but memories never die. On every side of one of those walls of blind turning streets, the passerby bowed with full reverence, without knowing which religion God is associated with. Used to have a lot of self in itself. I was a child at that time, but I never felt any fear in going through the streets of those blind turns, but today, whenever there is a way (very little) of a road, but when going through a dry road, there are many types of expressions Come to my mind, we were talking about the streets of childhood, we used to go to our grandmother's house every Sunday and the way to her house used to go through these dark alleys.
By Yogesh Sawant5 years ago in Families
