Random Thoughts of Amy Potts

Kauffman Center view from Broadway Street A typical Sunday morning for me these days is usually spent on the rocky trails in my favorite park. I love to hike and pray and think and dream. Because we can't attend church in person these days, I have been attending "worship service" in nature. I like to stop and stand still to listen to the birds singing and the distant conversations of other hikers carrying on the wind. Is God speaking to me through it all? Sometimes I think so. Other times I think he stands still over it all just to listen. The harmony of the birds with the sound of the wind through the trees must be quite pleasing to the one Kauffman Center view from Wyandotte Street who created it all. This week I decided to do something different. I wanted a different view of life. I packed up my camera and headed into the city; Kansas City. I admire architecture and there is plenty of beautiful pieces of art in our City. I spent the majority of my time

A family of four once lived there.  Mother, father and two children both boys.  Every day for several years the father went to work in the fields by summer, and at the local grain elevator by winter.  He was hard working.  Steel hands, they called him because his hands were so hard and calloused from his work.  When he came home at night he made sure there was always plenty; plenty of wood for the fireplace, plenty of food on the table to eat, plenty of love for his wife and children.  He did his best.  Mom stayed home and cared for the basic needs of the family.  She cooked, mended the torn knees in active little boys trousers, and made sure there was enough time to read stories and always did everything with love. As time went on the boys grew to be men and moved away from the family farm.  They came home often, bringing laughter and laundry for their mom because she had the magic touch.  Eventually their visits became fewer and farther between.  The home that was once f