Pretty in Pink

Tabitha Moore’s dream started with an idea, a few dresses, and an old camper. “Owning a business was always something I wanted,” said Moore. “So to be able to build one from my love of clothing is a huge blessing.” After months and months of thought and prayer, Moore started La Petite Boutique last October with hopes of providing trendy, stylish clothing at affordable prices and building community with other women in the area.

Stay 731: Something Worth Saying

I often think of the power of words. The words others use to you about you, the words you use. The words that came before us and the words that will come long after we’re gone. The very same tool that can inspire and lead to greatness also can be used to cut down, leaving only rubble where something wonderful should have stood. Jackson could be either of those, and the power is in those who call it home.

Carefully Spun

Two hands carefully hold the wet clay as it spins around and around. They shape it and form it to be beautiful, throwing the clay with force onto the wheel. The clay becomes centered as the hands see that it spins perfectly and smoothly. They begin to open the top—carefully, though, because they know if it isn't done correctly, they will have to start the process over again. From there they form the base, they thin and raise the walls, they go through each step with love.

On: Spring Cleaning

I remember as a little girl, there were two things that topped the list of my least favorites about spring. One was a bright orange windbreaker my mother insisted I wear, and the other was spring cleaning. It never failed, though. She would place the cleaning rag and off-brand dusting spray in my tiny hands no matter how many times I insisted that the house was clean enough.We would scrub away the remnants of seasons past, and at the end of a (very) long day, we would be able to start over clean.

In the Spirit of Giving

He bounded toward the car with soaked sock-feet, but he didn’t seem to care. His mother did, though. “Where are your shoes?” she asked. When he answered, the furrow in her brow fell and her heart sank. He said, “I gave them to a little boy. His had holes in them, and the bottom was broken.” That’s when it all started, she said. He was five years old.