The holy hush of ordinary

Cheryl Cruce Guest Columnist They were just ordinary people, carving out a place on the outskirts of town where neighbors were few and gardens generous. A wooded area was cleared carefully, yet the grand oak trees were left standing—offering shade, beauty and room enough for a house to be built and, over time, a home to be made. With three bedrooms and one bath, the house often felt small but beyond the front door stretched wide-open spaces waiting to be explored. Dad worked two jobs to keep