Walton Merritt

“You must respect my rights!” declared my son, blissfully unaware of how easily a mother’s

**A Storm in the Family Circle** A few days ago, my eldest sister, Margaret, invited me to her home.

“Where can I complain if my daughter hates me?” —I ought to report my daughter somewhere—muttered

Margaret Whitmore woke to the gentle June sunlight tracing her face. The morning was strangely silent—no

“Just Want a Bit of Peace and Quiet” —Morning, muttered Dana as she shuffled into the office

Where Silence Lives That night, Emily woke at four in the morning—jolted, as though someone had yanked

The Flowers That Bring Happiness Autumn was fading away, bidding farewell to the city with slow, lingering

Eve’s mother-in-law complained that her grandson ignored her. But where was she when he needed family?

The mother-in-law sobbed uncontrollably right there at the wedding. Only she knew why. The crowd of guests

**Diary Entry** I’m not made of steel. It breaks my heart for my son and grandson, but I refuse to bend