Dear Rose Park,
Last week Thursday, I went for a run in Riley Trails. I followed the blue signs winding my way through the east side first and then finishing on the west side. I typically listen to music or a podcast when I go for a run, but not inside Riley Trails. With all the blind corners and the addition of bikers and walkers, it seems best to have all my senses alert to what’s happening around me. Last Thursday however, I was reminded yet again of what can happen when you’re not paying attention.
Dear Rose Park,
As my family and I prepare to move to Connecticut at the beginning of November, we have naturally begun to pack up our belongings. We are in the very beginning stages of packing, but as boxes begin to fill our dining room, I am realizing that the Waterstone family has acquired a tremendous amount of books.
Dear Rose Park,
When I was a senior in college, I lived near the train tracks. I can remember when my buddies and I first moved in, it seemed like the noise of the train was not only going to knock the house down (this perhaps says more about the house than the train) but also deafen our ears. However, when I moved out of that house some ten months later, the sound of the train became so commonplace, so similar to static, we hardly noticed it at all.
Dear Rose Park,
My maternal grandparents, Don & Arlene Brinks, lived on Circlewood Drive in Portage Michigan. I remember pulling up to their house and seeing their beautifully manicured lawn, the flagpole that stood outside, and the kissing Dutch boy and Dutch girl lawn ornaments. I remember a lot about their house, but what I remember most is sitting around their table and hearing my Grandpa read a devotion and pray. Grandma passed away in 2007 and Grandpa passed away in 2019, but these images and memories will never fade.
Dear Rose Park,
These past few weeks have been a lot for all of us, haven’t they? Lots of emotions. Lots of planning. Lots of conversation and communication. Lots of schedules and calendars. Lots of questions and lots of answers. So, given the weight of the past few weeks it was no surprise that when I walked up the stairs to my bedroom a few weeks ago and saw a handmade note from my daughter Winnie, I shed a tear or two.
Dear Rose Park Reformed Church Family,
This week’s letter comes from Mary Wisner…
At first, our giving (Larry and I) was about following the rule. We tithed regularly to the church. It wasn’t until we stretched our level of giving that we began to experience the joy of giving. After hearing the testimony of a couple in our church of their giving practice we were moved.
