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Waiting for the angels, chopping the head off a chicken, building a house — twice
By Our ReadersJune 1979To let our parents be, to accept them as people, human and therefore imperfect, rather than as gods — that is the challenge.
By Sy SafranskyJanuary 1979In the year I was sixteen, on the first day of that new year, my father died, and since that time I have longed hopelessly for a paradise that will never return.
By David GuyDecember 1978A print that someone had jabbed holes where the eyes had been, The Secret Garden where the snow-drops bloomed, a pair of tweezers thrust into a hand
By Our ReadersOctober 1978Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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