My Child… You may not know me, but I know everything about you …PSALM 139:1 I know when you sit down and when you rise up …PSALM 139:2 I am familiar with all your ways …PSALM 139:3 Even the very hairs on your head are numbered …MATTHEW 10:29-31 For you were made in my image …GENESIS 1:27 In me you live ...
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Describing the most natural, authentic 7 weeks of my life. Living and working in an indigenous community, and trekking coast to coast. Henry Bushell, a nineteen year old from Plaistow will be giving a slide presentation and talk about his recent trip to Costa Rica with Raleigh International - on Saturday, January ...
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Eighty years ago, in December 1939, Great Britain was at war. Adolf Hitler had become German chancellor in 1933 and under his command the armies of the Third Reich were now marching through Europe leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. Once again Britain faced an uncertain future. It was only twenty-one years ...
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As the train trundled along the tracks, I sat on the tartan seat, gazing out of the window into the landscape filled with lakes, coniferous trees and mountains that stretched higher than the eye could see. The scenery looks beautiful! I thought to myself. Hopefully where I’m going is as beautiful as what I’m looking ...
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'Everyone interested in the battle, for whatever reason, would do well to read this engaging book' - Sunday Times History and politics often become entangled in Scotland. The past can serve as inspiration for the future to some, and a lesson for others in potential mistakes to avoid. One thing is certain, Scottish ...
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Do you ever wake up and feel just as disappointed with your life as you did when you went to sleep? Just as disillusioned? That’s me - well that’s my life - I always feel like I’m looking for something, but I just don’t know what it is yet. February 14th, Valentine’s Day. Another commercial scam to make us men pay ...
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There’s a knock at the door, and my heart drops into my stomach. I knew, with it being Christmas, that she’d have to come round at some point, feel obliged even, to grace us with her own unique brand of season’s greetings and goodwill to all men. But what I wouldn’t give to avoid another visit. I turn to look ...
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Colour. It was beautiful. It was light itself, reflecting to create endless wonders. Finished. The end. When the colour drained, everything was blamed, eyesight, the sun, us. Nothing can bring the colour back now. Now the world is just a spinning hole of darkness. Now the colour has gone forever. Colour was beauty and ...
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Nothing smells more like summer than a freshly mown hayfield. Even in winter, when the hay bales gathered under summer sunshine are broken into, the scent is enough to take me back to those achingly bright, cloudless days, permeated by sweltering heat and steeped in sweat, working the field with my scythe, until the ...
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When I was a little boy, my favourite thing to do in the world was to visit my grandmother, every Sunday, after church. We’d pull into the drive, in the bottle-green Morris Minor, and my father would step up to the door, heavy boots re- sounding on the porch, and rap the big, brass knocker with his signature five ...
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