I once had a dear friend. Her name was Jan. She died young in her early fifties but while she was here, Jan was a wise and joyful presence. She’d been through stuff and, unlike me (who enjoyed a good wallow) Jan always managed to find the shiny nugget. She knew how to get through it all and was happy to share what she had learned without judgment. Read More
Review: Shadow Theatre’s Tiny Beautiful Things rides emotional train to redemption
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