The Welcome Box

Fifteen years ago, after spending time at a Guatemalan orphanage, my husband and I returned to the states and asked the very simple question:

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Envy

Envy: it’s the bone-rotter. The joy-corroder. Buzzkill. I feel it pervade as I look at photos of impeccably adorned, whitewashed Pottery Barnesque mantles, slapdash

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