Monthly Archives: September 2018

Frederick John Patterson, the brother of my mother, was born on May 15, 1920 in the coal country of western Pennsylvania.  His early life was hard.  As a child, he hitch-hiked seven miles to school every day.  It was especially difficult during the winter months, as he often lacked adequate clothing.  But Fred persevered and managed to finish high school, a feat at which many of his contemporaries failed. After high school Fred got a job as a conveyor loader…..

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When I was a boy of eight or so I watched in fascination as a butterfly struggled to emerge from its chrysalis. Having a somewhat tender spirit, I decided to help. It died. A butterfly needs the struggle in order for its wings to develop properly. I hate seeing people in pain in all its forms. In the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:30-37) a Samaritan helps a man who has been robbed and beaten by thieves. Jesus tells…..

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