“Let me see,” he said to an old man feeding his chickens. “Suppose there was a precipice in front of you, and your next step would be your last... Who would warn you in time?”

“Father Sebastian closed his ledger book. As of this date there were seventeen children of God. They were orphans, but to Father Sebastian they would always be the children of God -- until they were adopted...”

“The young man stared fixedly at the setting sun. ‘Think how wonderful it must be to live where the sun sets. Look there old man, it’s touching down just over the crest of that long dark hill. That’s where I want to be...’”

“George has been walking all day. His feet are sore and he is hungry. He is on his own; just like a rolling stone. He asks himself a pointed question, “Who’s going to stop and give a dwarf a ride?” His answer is simple: “Nobody, that’s who...”

"Yes, I know he doesn’t smell very nice, Elise, and yes he has food all over his shirt , but he’s a great composer, dear – he’s not like real people..."

"Gladys Worthington of Hoboken, New Jersey may have saved as many as 20 people from a watery grave this morning – and then again, maybe she did not..."

“Grandpa taught me how to play chess, don’t you remember?” Eva said as her grandmother joined her in the closet looking through boxes that had been accumulating for almost fifty years in the apartment her mother had grown up in."

Laura G. has sent us a story about loss that we can all relate to. When we lose someone dear to us, we keep our loved one alive with our memories of them. Sometimes a particular object will provide a connection to that person. After I lost my dad, many years ago, my mom gave me a couple of his belongings that she thought would have particular significance to me...

Just in time for the holidays, StoryRhyme.com is happy to present a short story by our friend Harry Buschman, "Christmas Story." Many of us are familiar with the story of Joseph and Mary searching for a night's lodgings and being turned away...

"Sadie Devons was declared to be a witch, but in an age when witches were burned at the stake, she enjoyed a long and comfortable life. She owed it all to her one eyed cat “Brimstone,” she said. It was a handsome cat; jet black except for her left front paw, which was white as snow..."

"The old man was a great reader. He could be a princess, a king or a roaring dragon and the children would be all ears and wide eyes with their blankets pulled up to their chins, and they would listen with rapt attention. He read well because he believed every word he read, and his belief made the children believe too. They never wanted their father or mother to read, they always asked for grandfather..."

“First of all I'm a nonagenarian – too old to be learning new things and probably too old to be giving advice as well. But never too old to tell stories about the way things used to be...”