On reflection

RUTH climbed the narrow path to Windlow Hill. She had a canvas bag in one hand and her mother’s old cardigan tucked under the other. Below, the village looked almost as it had in her childhood – white

IT was about nine o’clock on a Friday night when we heard a vehicle pull up in the yard. You couldn’t miss it. I think it must have had a hole in its exhaust! Jip let the world know we had visitors. T

“Breaking up is never easy, I know…” Good old Abba – always ready with an apposite lyric, though in this case I suppose it should be “Letting go is never easy” as I say farewell to the garden I have m

OUR three-year-old grandson, Aidan, has a flair for the dramatic. From somewhere, no-one knows where, he’s picked up the phrase, “Or I die!” He says things like, “I need an ice-lolly or I die!”, and “

The Church of the Nativity still moves millions of people to tears and represents the power of hope. It is why, says the Revd Fergus Butler-Gallie, we flock to our local church at Christmas, no matter how far removed it may seem

TO Jon’s surprise, Mr Pringle agreed to speak to him in the snug. Once they were seated there, Jon spoke quietly. “I’m a stranger here, and I want to keep an open mind. “So it would help if you could