Stories by Frieda McRae

  • A Forest Visit
    Treasures on my wall tell a story. This story is for my Aunt Katy Who was passionate about nature and children, and of course; butterflies. No one expected a retired 4th grade math teacher to explode with such amazing artistic talent!
  • A Million-Dollar-Smile
    A million-dollar smile is the perfect song that rises from your heart.
  • No Room at the Inn
    I trust that if one of us says something the other doesn’t understand, we can just ask.
  • Elijah Jumps
    Don’t change your mind while in the air!
  • Jamun Tree
    I ate them all.
  • The Lost and Found Smile
    The Million Dollar Smile is a good name for a movie.
  • Lies
    “Oh, what a tangled web we weave…when first we practice to deceive.” (Walter Scott)
  • My Standby
    I thought I should write it down, lest I forget any of it.
  • The Puppy and the Paper Doll
    A story exploded out of my granddaughter’s mouth and I was swept down the current.
  • Me, Suicide and God
    Ashu’s story was unimaginable, but sadly true; a type of Cinder-fella story. After two weeks of procrastination, he finally showed up at my house to tell me his story. Now I understand why it took him so long to come; it was a matter of courage —facing the truth. As he unfolded his life, he was once again confronted by his family, the battle scars opened again, the anger and the unanswerable questions were rebirthed. But at the end I heard a story he had never told. Now I stood with him like a friend, a witness who shared his […]
  • The Magnificent Ship
    I wonder, India, how are you doing in the midst of so much pain and big loss? Children who hadn’t known death, are now stabbed and crippled in pain. India, your magnificent ship is barely floating. I wish to throw you a life jacket… grab hold and hang on. Written during May, 2021Sadness, grief and tears;India Covid crisis Is God good? Can it be? Is God love? Help me see!People cry out; oh, God, where is your love? People weep and grieve; oh God look down and see! Your land, India, lies wasted and in great need. Sorrow’s flood, pools […]
  • Hope on Flower Mountain
    India, how are you doing in the midst of so much pain and big loss? Your magnificent ship is barely floating.
  • Touch the Feet
    At the last curtain call, long applause resounded and the annual school program came to an end. Former students faithfully came to catch a glimpse of the old days, appreciating the feeling of welcome to the school where they grew up and learned life. A young man suddenly charged towards me but stopped abruptly in front of me. He pounded his clenched fist to his heart, bowed before me and touched my feet with his fingers; a greeting bursting with love, respect and honor. Of course, it’s Indian tradition, and doesn’t always carry those wonderful tones, but when it comes […]
  • Wednesday Changed my Life
    I was eleven and told everyone I’d be starting an orphanage in India. Who’d believe an eleven-year-old? Skeptics added coals to my fire.
  • Answers to some Questions & Questions for some Answers
    Excuse me, did you have a question for this answer?
  • Grandma’s on the Family Tree
    Grandma is as sweet as pie; as calm as a lalabai…
  • Come Away with Me
    He’s the crying Lord and with painful compassion, keeps tears in His wineskin for healing the nations…
  • India Cry – May 2021
    Our land is crying, smothered with heavy darkness; how long do we live in fear?
  • Ironically Broken
    My little boat was far from home across a vast ocean. Helpless? Yes! Unhappy? Not at all! Life hung in limbo, perched precariously somewhere between dreams and truth. Life was picking up speed and taking me with it.
  • The Depth of Humble
    I sent the story draft again and again to Anna’s sisters who were top-notch school teachers. Her sisters meticulously read my story and edited it methodically —like proper teachers grading an exam. They admitted reading it was not easy; tapping into buried feelings took them to an emotional place that was difficult to visit too often or stay in too long. Buried heartache emerged after years. I understood. Reading about one you loved so deeply, but lost… hurts.
  • The Sacrificial Love of the Yabadabadoo Man
    And so, after all the wonderful sacrificial love, and the tenderness and brokenness which I’ve described exhibited in my dad, this live gig recording reveals the truth; he was also, undoubtedly human.
  • Dad’s Finale:

    The Last Ya-ba-da-ba-doo!
    Parents are always on stage; they are the star in their children’s lives. They are the heroes.
  • Targeting Life
    Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. (Norman Cousins)
  • Appostrogetic (Part Three)
    Death is naked before God; destruction lies uncovered…” Job was right. I never imagined I’d live through such a day as that.
  • Appostrogetic (Part Two)
    As the ceiling shuddered above us, there was an earth-shaking, appostrogetic tumult above our heads that entered our whole being and made our innards shake and tremble.
  • Appostrogetic (Part 1)
    Absolutely everything had been lost. The only thing we had left was each other and a memory etched into our lives forever. What an unpresented Palm Sunday evening that was!
  • Déjà vu?
    Yip and I stared out the front door into thick, muddy blackness. Weather showed up in a very bad mood.
  • I Go to Prison
    I was never so excited to go to prison.
  • Freedom Fly
    See the paintings by Grace, listen to the song of how one young girl, Pari, escaped from her prison.
  • Setting a Caged Bird Free
    Are you in a cage that feels like a prison? There is definitely a way to escape. You may need to give some thought to your personal escape route.
  • Luke 8:21
    A musical interpretation of the three part story: A Sad Story
  • A Sad Story
    After Mom died people tried to tell us she was coming back as a ghost to haunt us. Whatever they did, or said, was for their own benefit.
  • A Sad Story
    It was a very bad bad, sad, rainy night that turned into a nightmare. Rain, that is so necessary for life, created unforgettable turbulence in my life.
  • A Sad Story
    The boy in the magazine with the begging bowl didn’t become an unmarked grave labeled “orphan.” We do not raise orphans; we raise sons and daughters.
  • Orphans: How to Avoid (How to Avoid in outlined other colourful letters)
    Ever noticed the neglected children on the streets; the ones you see and avoid? Their dirty rags are the reason for my song. The back-up singers are children. Consider it the intro to next week’s article, about such a child.
  • The Blurp That Entered My Life
    This happened only a month ago and I’ve been unable to write for over a month. I’m still not sure what hit me.
  • A Sunday Sabbath Bedtime Story
    Sabbath; the last day of the week… or is it the first? In any case, Sunday is a day on which there shouldn’t be creepy bedtime stories. Consequently, this story is the happy opposite of creepy and hopefully provides some food for thought.
  • Saturday’s Creepy Bedtime Story
    This story has nothing to do with the classic drama, The King and I. The king I met wasn’t a Maharaja, but the King was with me as I walked across the unploughed field. He couldn’t stop for a chat. Like all Kings, he was busy and on his way to his next “appointment.”
  • Friday’s Creepy Bedtime Story
    One tends to think a toilet ring is pink. However, this one was beautifully black, highlighted with spectacular designs. No one really appreciates a toilet ring, and if you rated appreciation of this toilet ring on a scale of one to ten, it would not rate at all. But who rates toilet rings?
  • Thursday’s Creepy Bedtime Story
    Have you ever played the water game Marco Polo? I grew up playing it, but I never knew that it was a dangerous game for children; only children would have dared a dunk in that dark murky green water.
  • Wednesday’s Creepy Bedtime Story
    I have never doubted it was the voice of God, and God who saved me. But I never knew that God’s voice sounded just like my husband’s voice.
  • Tuesday’s Creepy Bedtime Story
    This title of the story is quite literal, only it wasn’t just once, I was definitely upon a scorpion more than once, and, believe me, I don’t like it.
  • Monday’s Creepy Bedtime Story
    What if your husband woke you in the dead of night by saying, “Shhhhhh… something’s in the room?”
  • Satisfied
    I write songs, it’s my worship, that’s why I always feel they are very good.
  • Five Days of Intermissions – day Five
    Work. When will it all end? As the usual work day ends, review the intermissions; those are what is remembered. What would life be without intermissions?
  • Five Days of Intermissions – Day Four
    How to drive cupid’s arrow straight into its target, without spending a lot of time having to think about it, or… how to have a short romance and a long marriage.
  • Five Days of Intermissions – Day Three
    As she approached her house, she heard wails. Turning slowly, there she was; her mother lying motionless on a cot. Her father pulled her school-bag from her back, but she couldn’t feel anything.
  • Five Days of Intermissions – Day Two
    I was a fish caught in a net. No, it was worse. I was a spider caught in its own web. I strolled down the dirt road I was accosted by two village women who brandished their tongues and ran their epistles right through me.
  • Five Days of Intermissions – Day One
    He always showed up in my office, brought in by an angry teacher. We’d have a chat, he’d solemnly promise to be good, and off he’d go. One day it was different…
  • Clean Sheets
    …I walked outside. Once I outside, I thought, now what? I had no idea. At that time, there were no mobile phones, only pay phone booths, which were beneficial if the person you were trying to contact had a phone. We had no phone at home, so I had a problem… bursting into tears could be a solution.
  • The Centre of the Universe
    Here I am in the centre of the universe. Where? It’s located in a village in India, in a sunny, cosy corner room on the east and south side of my house, a very small room, packed with all sorts of paraphernalia. Photos, song files, pens and pencils, my desk, a sitar, a piano keyboard, a trunk and a large ancient wicker chair stuffed with pillows and furry blanket —all part of my universe. A website was born from my universe; the universe is extending rapidly! I love to write. It helps me think, review, gaze at life yesterday, today […]
  • I am Raghav
    “I have a story.Would I tell my story?I love to tell my story; it inspires me so much.” Raghav I am Raghav and this is my story. Punjab, in the northwest, borders Pakistan and is rich in agriculture. It boasts huge fields, large combines and farm machinery rarely seen in other states. Uttarakhand, is known as “the mountain state,” because the Himalayas rise out of it. Dehradun is its capital. The mountain people are proud, living in shadowy valleys and sunlit snowy heights. Ancient villages lay hidden, deep within the steep and shifting Himalayan peaks. In these states, Punjab and […]