The Common Good

Carey Burkett

Articles by Carey Burkett

For quite a few winters now, I have watched a great joy of mine turn slowly into sadness: No one writes letters anymore, a fact that is especially noticeable at Christmas card time.

"No thanks, it makes me sick." "Let’s see, if I leave the milk out of these rolls Sheila can eat them." 

Someday when I see the sale card announcing "12 Lemons for a Dollar" at the grocery store, I’m going to buy all 12 instead of just two or three.

The loaves and fishes in the Bible story of the "feeding of the five thousand" (a major sandwich-making operation) should spring to mind whenever hungry people congregate.

Yesterday I learned that a friend will be moving far away.