My Mama called me this week–said she was looking for something in the top of her closet and this box fell on her head–a small box. ‘Come down here and get it. I’ve looked through it–there’s some stories in the box–real interesting. I think you will like reading them.’ The top of the stained and worn paper box–the edges are frayed–the words in cursive reads–”Paper Clipings” The box belonged to my Great-Grandmother.  I called her Grammy–sometimes Mammy.   And the box holds trea

The sunrise this morning--I walk outside and the sky is on fire--a blaze, and the shadows of the trees looked charred against the morning sky--black--like a roaring fire has come thru--the void of smoke. The frost clings to the rooftops--the blades of grass crunch under my feet. I walk back into the house to get my camera and within minutes--the sunrise--the flame is not as red--as bold. The skies have turned to pink. Gray clouds circling. And here we are greeting 2026 and

In case you missed chapters one and two of The Christmas Quilt and the Zion Creek Ladies Circle and want to go back and read from the beginning, below are the links. Chapter 1: https://www.tathelmiller.com/post/the-christmas-quilt-and-the-ladies-of-zion-creek Chapter 2: https://www.tathelmiller.com/post/the-christmas-quilt-and-the-ladies-of-zion-creek Come into the Gathering Room at Zion Creek. Make yourself at home. Drink a cup of coffee, hot chocolate, tea--eat a slice of

As the clock strikes 2026, I'm not ready it seems--but time will not wait and here we are! The Saturday Journal will be back on Saturday, January 10th. The Christmas Quilt and the Zion Creek Ladies Circle will be back on Wednesday, January 7th. I'm so thankful for each of you! Many blessings, peace and joy of heart in this--A NEW YEAR!

On this the last Saturday in 2025, I write to each of you with a humble and a full and thankful heart for reading each week and for encouraging me to keep on writing. I've thought about quitting more times than I want to admit--but this writing of stories along with your continued encouragement and support--it has been a healing for me--in many ways. This week I want to revisit the first story--which now marks two years and six months for The Saturday Journal. The ideal o

In case you missed part one of The Christmas Quilt and the Zion Creek Ladies Circle and want to go back and read it, here is the link. https://www.tathelmiller.com/post/the-christmas-quilt-and-the-ladies-of-zion-creek Come into the Gathering Room at Zion Creek. Make yourself at home. Drink a cup of coffee, hot chocolate, tea--eat a slice of pecan pound cake, cinnamon roll, or munch on Estelle's famous Moravian Sugar Cookies or Bernice's peanut butter cookies. And then pull u

I tell my grandkids this all the time--I'm proud of you. And they reply thank you and smile. But there was this one time--actually more than once--that one of them answered back with a question--for what? For what? And I told my grandchild I was proud of him for lots of reasons and why. I'm proud of you -- The words, I'm proud of you --it's a gift we don't give to others--nowhere near enough. Over the past five years I have seen and witnessed a group of young people--som

Come into the Gathering Room at Zion Creek. Make yourself at home. Drink a cup of coffee, hot chocolate, tea--eat a slice of pecan pound cake, cinnamon roll, or munch on Estelle's famous Moravian Sugar Cookies. And then pull up a seat at the quilt frame--join in the laughter and sometimes tears, as the Ladies of Zion Creek share their Christmas stories of days past, as they stitch together a very special Christmas quilt. (First in the series--available each Tuesday evening/W

This week I celebrated a birthday and I am now seven years and a few months shy of the age of my Daddy--when he passed away. It was a cold day--a fresh blanket of snow had fallen--it wasn't a deep snow, but enough for the power to go out--a tree to fall. And on that March day, my Daddy took his last breath here on this earth and his first breath in heaven. A month before he took his last breath--he attended his first and only great grandbaby's birthday party. He fixed him

It's December...already. And November felt like time ticking down on a microwave--a wind that appeared for a brief moment and gone. I remember my Grandpa saying, 'time speeds up as you grow older'. And my uncle saying in one of his Sunday School lessons, 'Soon a minute--a second won't be enough for us. We'll want things even faster and--what he said, was long before the days of prime and Amazon. December is here and with it comes the rush of the season. Do this. Do that.

If I had to choose a favorite holiday--it would be Thanksgiving! Please don't get me wrong--I do love Christmas! But there is something special about Thanksgiving.  The word within its self is truly a gift. Thanks. Giving. I heard a lady say--just this week--when our heart is full of gratitude--it's hard to focus on the anxiety that strives to live there. I know there are several families this year who recently said good-bye to the family members--here on this earth--until

The clouds are puffed--layered--like suds waiting for dirty dishes to drop. Lord, I pray, please send rain. We are in need. It's Tuesday--nine days 'til Thanksgiving--thirty-four days 'til Christmas. This wasn't in my plans today--but I'm in need of light bulbs--why is it they all go out at the same time. I need the long kind--for the basement. A few days ago, I bought the ones that read--"basement and workshop" on the label. But nope, not for my basement. It's still early