“IT’S NOT YOUR fault. It’s not your fault.” I kept telling myself this as I waited for the cryotube’s cooler to pump down. Its rhythmic wheezing echoed the same reply: Yes, it is. Yes, it is. As the temperature dial crept downward, I glanced at the f

ALEXANDER SELKIRK RACED after the wild goat as it bounded ahead of him up a steep slope. His calloused feet hardly felt the rocky ground. The Scottish sailor grinned, remembering when he’d been too slow to catch a healthy goat. The desperate animal s

The Old Year Is at the station Waiting for the train, A one-way ticket In his hand—He won’t be back again. Where is he heading? No one knows. Some place faraway, His luggage packed With memories Of each and every day. Happy memories, Sad ones, too—Th

THERE ONCE LIVED a prosperous landholder who had three grown daughters. One day, when the last of the snow lay in little piles beneath the cherry trees, he prepared to set out for the fair. “I am off,” he said, shrugging into his heavy coat and stepp

The frost is here,The fuel is dear,And woods are sear,And fires burn clear,And frost is hereAnd has bitten the heel of the going year. Bite, frost, bite!You roll up away from the lightThe blue woodlouse and the plump dormouse,And the bees are stilled

GALILEE PAUSED AT the large outcropping of rock lining one wall of the canyon rising before her. Among the sharp cliffs and sparse foliage, there was no sound or sign of movement. No trespassing. It is the law and part of the ongoing treaty. But she

“THE INUIT WOMAN TOLD ME THAT IF I EVER SAW A UNICORN, TO CLOSE MY EYES.” WAITING FOR UNICORNS by Beth Hautala submitted by Kaia N. of La Farge, WI “The copper-haired rider looked at the black sky and swore.” IN THE HAND OF THE GODDESS (Song of t

In memory I hold a vision of my grandpa grooming one of his Shetland ponies on his farm in the 1940s. He was expecting a family to visit that evening—a possible sale. “But you know, Millie,” he said to me as, brush in hand, he gently stroked the pony

They come like the ghosts of horses, shyly,To this summer field, this fresh green,Which scares them. They have been too long in the blind mine,Their hooves have trodden only stonesAnd the soft, thick dust of fine coal, And they do not understand the

Midnight is a little rescue cat whose original owners reluctantly had to leave her behind when they moved away from England. She has come to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Jones, a kindly older couple with a large house in the country. Midnight has a numbe

THESE SPICY GINGERBREAD muffins are great for breakfast. Mix the dry ingredients together the night before to save time in the morning. Then surprise Mom and Dad with breakfast in bed during the holidays! (These muffins also make super snacks.) 13/4

WHEN I WAS a little girl, I thought my mother’s name was Yuki, which means snow. That was part of her name, but I didn’t learn the rest of it until the night my father died. My mother left us on a slate-gray evening when I was five, with her namesake

I love it when the trees are bare. Nothing but the shapes are there. Abandoned bird nests, dark and spare, Are all the sleeping branches wear. ■

IT DOESN’T SEEM that long ago, the Christmas of my eighth birthday. We had recently moved to 194 Poplar Street in New Haven, Connecticut. It was our sixth move that year. Our new home was a four-room apartment on the second floor of a rundown Victori

Thanks for usHealthy and happyAll gathered here on thisNovember day.Kindred soulsSeated together,Grateful for kindnessIn other’s ways.Voices raisedIn tune with each otherNeeds fulfilled asGrace we say. ■

There is a small temple facing south, on a hill overlooking the ancient Silla village of Nam Won. In its courtyard stands a gnarled tree guarding a hot spring. Every autumn children visit this temple, carrying paper lanterns. They hang lanterns on th