By Cindy Koch

Burning. Panting. I can’t quite catch a deep breath. Pain from my stomach shoots into my limbs, frizzling, tingling all the way to my fingernails. Fuzzy fire prevents my legs from moving any faster. I have growing fears they will give out on me every unsteady step I take. A single ankle screams and clenches fast to my foot, threatening to twist off the course. Claws of breath scratch from the inside of my chest. My heartbeat punches the back of my eyeballs. Red with determination, I fight to keep them open and focused, even under the boiling, stinging sweat.

By Scott Keith

Our youngest child is our daughter Autumn who is sixteen years of age. She has always been a very competent child. She learned how to do things very early; walking, talking, tying her shoes all came quickly and seemingly natural to her. When we would teach her to do something, as soon as she had even the slightest idea of how to do it, she would push our hands away and