Stories
written by Ronne Rock
It’s raining. There is at times a delicate mist in the air, and times when the silence is disrupted by the tap-tap-tap on the windows and the gentle rumble...
Let me just put it out there now. I am not an Elvis Presley fan. (moment of silence and a quick whispered “I’m sorry” to my mom and my...
I am a hunter, and I am a gatherer – a warrior and a princess. There is something about seeking and finding and treasuring that has value beyond measure....
I first met you in 2007. The room at Orphanage #2 was crowded and stuffy, and there were new shoes everywhere. You waited patiently as each child was seated...
The words were written in 1973 by a seasoned television news veteran. They are still as meaningful and beautiful today. Read them and read them again – and share...
love came down from heaven. love still dwells among us. love has a name. emmanuel. Happy Christmas. Howdy, and welcome to the place I store all manner of thoughts...
Life is too short for self-hatred and celery sticks. -Marilyn Wann There’s been some good kitchen therapy at CasaRock lately – some “I can’t do much but I can do...
A friend once shared her dilemma with me. She had a beautiful backyard – a sanctuary really. Flowers bloomed everywhere, and the canopy of the trees offered welcome shelter...
I snuggle under the warm quilt as the day breaks outside, and my mind drifts in a sleepy, still jetlagged fog to another world. The cold outside and Christmas...
Five years ago, the last Leningrad region orphanage was opened in the town of Kalozhitsy. The selected building was dilapidated, but that didn’t stop the government from asking a...
When I first began blogging about my journeys with the discarded, the posts read like diary entries. With rare exception, the words had a similar flow to them –...
A four-hour journey over snow-packed roads leads to the village of Tikhvin in the Leningrad region of Russia. It’s a lovely place, with a nice shopping district and lots...