MARCH ISSUE 2026
"We lived in a small adobe home, warm in the winter and blistering in the summer. My mother, Isabel, was a seamstress; my father, Mateo, repaired roofs and fences. Neither of them had much schooling, but they taught us through stories about our ancestors, about
crossing . . ."
"My name is Eleanor Mae Thompson, and I entered this world on a cold winter morning—February 2, 1943—in Lawrence, Kansas. My mother always said I was born “with my eyes wide open,” and maybe that was because I was always curious,
always watching . . ."
"I wanted to take some time to share what has mattered most to me in my life: the experiences that shaped me, the values I tried to live by, and the kind of person I hope I’ve been. I’m 73 years old. I grew up in a small town in Connecticut with what you might
call an . . ."
"Growing up wasn’t easy. Money was scarce, opportunities scarcer, but we made do. We had Sunday dinners with cornbread, greens, potatoes and whatever meat we could stretch to feed everyone. The neighborhood kids were loud, creative, competitive, and always
outside until . . ."