One Nation, Under God
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My older brother Orvin, who lives in my hometown in eastern Montana, just emailed me on May Day. Time to go to Mrs. Roush's house. In big brother fashion, he gently prompts me to write. Perhaps he knows this is a stressful time of year for a tired and slightly disillusioned 30-year, high school teacher. Perhaps he knows the importance of recalling the simple story of my one and only May Day basket. Perhaps he's prompting me to renew the innocence and belief in the love for one's teacher. Orvin...