Articles by Janet Hart Leonard

I sit in the silence. It’s the early morning hour before the world is waking up. The sun has yet to peek over the eastern horizon. I sit, holding my…

‘Tis the season to be thankful and joyous and feel all the fa-la-la that comes with Thanksgiving and Christmas. But. What if life has sideswiped your joy and fa-la-la? What…

“Chuck, are we going to have to call 911 to get us off the floor?” We both laughed … well, kind of. We had been sitting for four hours on…

Simmer down! Don’t get yourself in such a dither! I’ve heard my mother say both of those phrases. Her voice, as well as her sayings, had a way of calming…

1,056 square feet. Two bedrooms. One bath. Built in 1950. Original family owners. It’s a simple description for a realtor to describe her … but there’s so much more. She…

A few weeks ago, I wrote a story about my grandson, Jake, and his best friend, Logan, and how they had been friends since they were three years old. They…

My name is Janet, and I am a bona fide, certifiable “fixer.” If there were cards for “fixers,” mine would be Platinum. Bring me your problems, dilemmas, situations, and brokenness,…

This has been the summer of purging and cleaning out at the Little House on the Alley. It’s been brutal. My brain tells me to let go, but my heart…

False evidence appearing real. FEAR. My first recollection of being afraid of something was while riding my cherry red heavy metal tricycle. I was three years old. My mother would…