There are beautiful memorials all over the world waiting to be visited. When you take pictures with these priceless monuments to human life, remember the dignity that they are due and be respectful as you document your experiences on hallowed ground.
When seventy-year-old Grandma Lynn visited Paris for the first time, she chose to learn only one word in French: glaçon. Each day, my mother and I were electric with excitement to see the sights of Paris, but instead, my fluffy-haired grandmother dragged us through every cafe . . . read more
There must have been seven million lights ablaze on my first night in Hong Kong. I gazed out of the car window, unable to close my eyes for a second, not wanting to miss even one moment of that drive. As we passed high-rise after high-rise, the driver turned to me and said, “Behind each of those lights is a person. Seven million people; seven million lights.” That was the first time it hit me: an overwhelming desire to know the people behind the lights.
Have you ever seen something so beautiful you didn’t think it could possibly be real? Sometimes I’m amazed by the beauty of the world we live in. I haven’t had a lot of opportunities to see something truly amazing and beautiful, but I suppose that’s . . . read more
Enveloped by the lush greenery all around, I couldn’t tear my eyes from the sheer mountain slopes above and below the one-lane dirt road beneath our van. At the bottom of the deep chasm dropping away to our right, the grand Urubamba River swiftly swirled. . . . read more
“I love mangoes,” he tells me in his thick Congolese accent. And before I know it, he tells me his life story: how he came to London from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, why he takes boxes of mango juice to his apartment every week and drinks them so fast he has to buy an entire new case every Friday. He says that mango juice reminds him of his homeland.
I sit across the aisle from another writer on my 747 flight, an older woman writing in large letters. Her scrawl resembles my grandmother’s: messy but elegant, beginning large and then fading into smaller letters. She holds pages and pages of lined paper, off-white and . . . read more