Tiny Miracle You named her Sarah. She lived in the window of my teen-aged bedroom in a macrame hanger I made myself. She was so exotic, so otherworldly, so stunning in the Mississippi sunlight. In my twenties, she made the trip to New Orleans in the back of my orange Datsun, carefully cushioned for minimum damage, where she lived for many more years on the back patio until the many deluges and unrelenting humidity finally did her in. That, and my benign neglect. I’ve missed her all these years but I couldn’t buy another Sarah. It wouldn’t be the same. … Continue reading Tiny Miracle