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Ronda Rich's blog

Hospital waiting rooms

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Over the course of many years, I have spent a lot of time in hospital waiting rooms, hoping for good news and, at the same time, dreading the bad. I can remember clearly moments of time suspended by a pounding fear resounding in my ears like a thunderous cannon firing relentlessly.

The stones of life

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The honorable Zell Miller of Young Harris, Ga., was raised by a remarkable mountain woman. Folks around those parts called her “Miss Birdie” while her son, a man who would grow up to influence Southern and national politics in a tremendous way, would always call her “Mama.”

Names on a wall

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On a day that I was visiting someone in a nursing home, angels, disguised as caregivers, came in and requested that I step out while they worked. I walked down the hall, observing a life that caused me to ponder the circle of life.

Xmas on the Big River

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So it was that several years ago, I was hired to speak on a few occasions for riverboat cruises on the Mississippi. Paddle boats that hearkened back to the days of Mark Twain moved lazily yet with determined purpose through the waters of my favorite large river.

It was magical.

Learning, pondering

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Someone I didn’t know but who is a reader of this column wrote to ask a question the other day. She had just finished reading my last book and was curious to know, “When these people or situations cross your life, do you take notes of what you’re learning from them?”


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