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Gail Cronin :
3 article(s)

Gail Cronin writes from Buffalo, New York.
October 19th, 2004
Raspberries Are the Fruit of the Spirit

Many of the most significant changes in my life occurred all in the same year. I went from being a city apartment dweller to a suburban homeowner, the primary breadwinner to a housewife with no income of my own, an independent childless woman to a mother. I instantly had the overwhelming need to prove myself. I identified a task that seemed to epitomize the work of a suburban stay-at-home mom. I took up gardening.
Most people who have never before willingly put their hands in the dirt choose to start with an easy crop. But I didn’t plant tomatoes or marigolds. I felt compelled to grow raspberries.
As my unborn child stirred in the womb, I worried about everything. I worried about the big things, such as how to teach…

June 10th, 2004
Charity Takes Action

I learned what “waste” truly meant when the agency for which I worked began participating in a federally funded breakfast and lunch program for the preschoolers in our early childhood program.
Lawful wasteThe law required that carefully measured portions of food be given to every child, regardless of whether the child is hungry enough to eat it all.
A tremendous amount of food was thrown out each day. Contributing to the waste was the fact that absenteeism was high, snow days were common, and purchasing errors were made from time to time. Much of the food was perishable.The
amount of waste gnawed at me, and I was determined to make a dent in it.
Portions to the PortionI spoke to the two aides who worked…

February 6th, 2004
A Client and His Astonishing Family Tradition for Lent

Fresh out of graduate school a decade ago, I was hired as a speech pathologist for a not-for-profit agency serving the inner city poor. My therapy room contained an observation mirror so that the parents could watch and learn from my example.
Jared the poster childOne of my first clients was a five-year-old boy who had very delayed development. Jared came from a struggling urban family. He would have made the perfect poster child for poverty in America. He was charming and adorable, even in his ragged clothes. His mother was a shy woman who rarely made eye contact with me.
Jared’s little light One day in late winter, which just happened to be Ash Wednesday , I ended our speech therapy session by asking Jared to…

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