The greatest evil is not now done in those sordid “dens of crime” that Dickens loved to paint. It is not done even in concentration camps and labour camps. In those we see its final result. But it is conceived and ordered (moved, seconded, carried, and minuted) in clean, carpeted, warmed, and well-lighted offices, by quiet men with white collars and cut fingernails and smooth-shaven cheeks who do not need to raise their voice.
By Elrena Evans The year my eldest daughter was in kindergarten, she began bugging me to take her to the Maundy Thursday foot-washing service at our church six weeks before the event.
I moved from Pennsylvania to South Carolina two weeks before a major, evacuation-inducing hurricane and five weeks before last year’s presidential election.
I discovered that there’s nothing like a natural disaster to create camaraderie among strangers.
