We wouldn’t be in New Orleans this year. Our old neighborhood was still recovering from Hurricane Katrina. Luckily I had room in my home in St. Louis to take them all in.
My family had lived in New Orleans for generations, including the last 50 years in the Lower Ninth Ward. I hadn’t lived in the city since 1969, but I visited often and Christmas was still defined in my mind by the city’s traditions. On December 25 we made the rounds to our friends’ houses, enjoying a drink, tasting their gumbo, and feasting on mirliton, sweet potatoes and red velvet cake.
Denne historien er fra Jan/Feb 2020-utgaven av Angels on Earth.
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Denne historien er fra Jan/Feb 2020-utgaven av Angels on Earth.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
Allerede abonnent? Logg på
THE ANSWER
Could my husband’s recent retirement explain his behavior?
Sewing Hope
It wasn’t in my power to mend a broken heart, but I sent needle and thread, with chocolates for good measure
Problems? She Can Relate
Meet New Jersey’s Own Black Fairy Godmother
Valentine Angels
Straight from heaven—with love
The Humility Sisters
What would two nuns know about taking care of a baby?
Sophie's Secret
How could a dog know just what so many people needed?
Built by Angels
My mother called to ask if I knew the story of the 11 churches carved from single stones in Ethiopia
ONE RED GLOVE
Its message helped me shake the blues
Clutter, Be Gone!
Fifteen minutes a day keeps the mess away
A housewarming gift
My husband seemed to be in every room— even though I knew he was in heaven
