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A BCH story of hope: Three-year-old Emmalie leads me to a chair and takes her “stage” –– the bricked hearth in the family room. Facing her audience, she declares “I go to VBS!”…

A BCH story of hope: The toy wooden hammer from the Fisher-Price workbench makes the perfect microphone when granddaughter Emmalie takes center stage on the fireplace hearth. Her…

A BCH story of hope: The old black and white photograph shows me, not more than two years old, with an open-end crescent wrench in my hand. My dad stretches over the fender of the…

A BCH story of hope: My high school track and field coach John C. Miller was a distance runner in high school and ran track for his college alma mater graduating in 1952 and…

A BCH story of hope: On rainy days, a Raisin Bran box becomes a city skyscraper and Quaker Oats container a covered bridge. Narrow strips of construction paper, crayon marks down…

A BCH story of hope: The lake reflects the azalea blooms and the dogwood blossoms as the duck family waddles toward the shore. Sunlight stretches in and reaches through the…

Archived BCH update: As a child, there were times when the seriousness of what I said was best followed by “cross my heart and hope to die.” Even though I was insistent, I knew…

A BCH story of hope: My love of learning started in kindergarten class with Miss Jones, my teacher with bobbed hair and hairband, kind spirit and sweet smile. In the early days…

A BCH story of hope: In the hierarchy of chores, porch sweeping ranked among the lowliest, and none of the children wanted the assignment. In the morning sunshine but out of the…

Archived BCH update: My brother and I both had shiny red bicycles. The chrome spoked wheels sparkled in the sun. Eddie’s bike was larger, had a single saddle seat, and a square…