Sunday French toast and reflections on the Summer of Death

A personal essay about finding friendship and kindness during times of challenge

When I met Beverly, she had silver hair and a hunched back. It was the summer of 2009 and she was 76. She rode around on a golf cart around the campus of Interlochen Center for the Arts. Beverly lived in a beautiful two-story log cabin she had built on the edge of the campus property. It looked like a log lighthouse at the end of the road. And for many …