Jean Gendreau, Writer

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Why Do I Go to Church?

I go to church because I like holding hands while we walk forward. We’re all lost, but we’re all walking. Continue reading →

When Christmas Hurts

It’s the hardest Christmas ever. This year mere darkness seems trivial. Hundreds of thousands are sick and dying, and the Continue reading →

Mrs. Stanley’s Lesson

It’s how these things so often happen. Early on a Monday morning in about 1979, after I had finished meditating, Continue reading →

The Comforter

  [Painting: The Best Of Dreams, by Liliya Garipova]   It happened while I was jogging on a wooded path Continue reading →

Mohammed the Scot

[Published in The Timberjay, January 1, 2016] “They deny me my birthright!” The taxi driver’s eyes flash. He’s upset, and Continue reading →

Inner Rooms

[published in the Winter 2017 edition of “Tiferet Journal”] It’s 2 am on a cool November night in 1970. I’m on Continue reading →

Flashes

It’s only when love shines through that I see the flashes. It turns out that happy or tragic doesn’t matter. Continue reading →

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c3/Sergei_Vinogradov_-_Girl_playing_the_Piano.gif

Not Good Enough to Die

“Is this it?” Mildred clasps my hand tighter. Her voice is eager. “Am I dying?” One of the nurses frowns Continue reading →

No Easy Wind or Downy Flake: Mongolia

  I’ve run away again. I’m an old woman standing in a high valley in Mongolia’s Altai Mountains. The mountain Continue reading →

Holiday Blues: How to Forgive Your Parents

I hate going home for Christmas. It’s not the cookies and beer, the endless bowl games or the high school Continue reading →

Loving the Ones Who Don’t Get Better

This is from my own life experience. I wrote it the day after Robin Williams died.   She goes into Continue reading →

A Real Mother

It’s not conception, not pregnancy, not nursing, not even wiping snotty little noses. After all, dogs and cats give birth Continue reading →

Sasha’s Beads

Odd beads, too long and twisted to be a hippie’s necklace. I hold them softly between thumb and forefinger. Not Continue reading →

Joys of the Day: Late January

Northern Minnesota It’s not quite dawn as I write. Even here in the main room, inside the thick log walls, Continue reading →

Walking the Plank

It’s never as fun as in Peter Pan. It’s murder—A public execution. Peter Pan flew, but I don’t know how. Continue reading →

A Meditation for the Election

Here’s a meditation or prayer for the next few days: We hold a vision of light that shines brighter than Continue reading →

The Space Only God Can Fill

When I’m not singing in the choir,  I like to sit right over there. In years past Barb R. usually Continue reading →

Christmas vs. Easter

Christmas comes as the darkness grows. Easter comes after the darkness is complete. At Christmas, we light candles in the Continue reading →

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Jean Gendreau, Writer
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