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#have a little faith
sunsetquotes · 1 year
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Nothing haunts us like the things we don't say.
Mitch Albom; Have a Little Faith
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poemaseletras · 2 years
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Mitch Albom, Have a Little Faith
[ID do texto: Nada nos assombra como as coisas que não dizemos.]
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dragonmuse · 1 year
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New headcanon for the Have a Little Faith timeline:
Both Izzy and Faith hate their family names and contemplated changing them when they got married.
They settled on Callahands.
I'm dying omg, could you imagine?!
Lucius: Wait. You could choose any name in the world and that's what you went with?
Faith: We were young.
Izzy: And Faith thought it was hilarious.
Faith: *snickers* I still do.
Lucius: So if you're jerking me off, is that a Callahandy?
Faith: *falls off the couch, curled up in a ball laughing*
Izzy: *resigned sigh*
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jazzdailyblog · 1 month
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Bill Frisell: Master of Eclectic Guitar
Introduction: Bill Frisell is a name synonymous with innovation and versatility in the world of jazz and contemporary music. With a career spanning over four decades, Frisell has consistently pushed the boundaries of guitar playing, blending a wide array of genres and styles into his unique sound. From jazz and blues to country and folk, Frisell’s music defies categorization, earning him a…
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You might have to go to L’Manburg to save the bird man. He is not having a fun time.
phil may be an old man but that doesn’t mean he needs me carrying him around everywhere.
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bottleherlaugh · 10 months
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The way I'm stressed over tudum and the (potential) renewal of shadow and bone and the announcement for the six of crows spin off is not funny
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estravenlover · 10 months
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symphonyoflovenet · 1 year
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Nothing haunts us like the things we don’t say.
Mitch Albom, Have a Little Faith
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taintedsoul-if · 1 year
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Hi. Recently I've been under the weather. Maybe it's the 'terrible flu' that has been going around. I don't know. These past few days has been rough I guess. As usual. That about sums up most of my days.
It has been well over a month since I've posted an introduction to my if and that right there doesn't really sit well with me. I've been hanging onto 1/3 of chapter one because I didn't feel like it had reached the stage of publication. But I don't know. 🙄 I'm honestly stressed. I wanted to write an introduction to the pc mundane life before death, but my stupid self won't allow me to do that much.
I am unsatisfied and satisfied with the beginning of chapter one. A few more choices will be added further on down in the furture when I start adjusting or rewriting the beginning. But I think I am ready. I'll first reread what I've written, to straighten out a few grammar errors. I'll do a test run tomorrow morning. If my lazy ass mind can actually produce a few words I'll see if I can add a few more choices.
For this little chapter update that I have planned. What you can expect is....
PC Death
Get an SOS message from your best friend or not
Get attacked by a monster/ meet a stranger in the dark
Get scheme against by the man you entrusted your druggie mother to.
Customize your characters facial features. (🤭 just the eyes. Just the eyes. You'll be able to do the rest of your characters customization after you've 'transmigrated'.)
For such a short update. I made sure that it has alot of playable options. (Not that much).
Anyways fingers crossed. I hope to be able to go live with this demo tomorrow or Wednesday!
Anyways I hope you all have a wonderful/blessed day.
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mareyshelley · 2 years
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Summary: After convincing Sarah and Erin to leave for the mainland, Mildred goes to confront her old lover. She has to talk some sense into him. A/N: Thank you @femalecynic​ for beta reading, and thank you everyone who’s commented and left kudos along the way. I hope you all enjoy the final chapter! 🖤 Rating: E | Chapter 10/10: Full chapter on Ao3
All morning services had been stopped months ago, and that suited the residents of Crockett Island just fine. Mornings had always been quiet, before the miracles had started. The evenings became the same, after the miracles stopped.
That wasn’t strictly true. They hadn’t  stopped, so much as they’d slowed down.
John stood outside, greeting the small number with waves and smiles and small talk. 
The Scarboroughs came last. With the angel gone, John had no more blood to add to the sacrament, but they had their own. Once a month, he added a drop or two to the eucharist, just enough to keep Leeza walking and Wade’s arthritis from getting worse. Ed Flynn’s back no longer troubled him, and Annie hadn’t needed her glasses for months. Millie had hesitated at adding any of their blood at all, but she had relented to just a few drops. It was better to let everyone live their natural lives, to be taken when God intended it, but they could help those lives to be more comfortable.
“No Miss Clift this evening, Father?” Wade asked, walking up the ramp.
John smiled, though he was sure it looked strained, and tried to stop his eyes from jumping to the rectory. 
“No. She’s feeling a little under the weather, I’m afraid,” he excused, and turned to follow the Scarboroughs inside. “I’m sure she’ll be back on her feet in no time.”
[Read More on Ao3]
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hallmarknostalgia · 2 years
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Have a Little Faith (2011). dir. Jon Avnet
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mage-child · 1 year
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Have a Little Faith: a True Story by Mitch Albom
#BookReview - Have a Little Faith by Mitch Albom How do you go about writing a eulogy for a near stranger? Even if you're not religious, I'd recommend this one for anyone looking for a bit of life inspiration :)
4 out of 4 Stars The Blurb In Have a Little Faith, Mitch Albom offers a beautifully written story of a remarkable eight-year journey between two worlds–two men, two faiths, two communities–that will inspire readers everywhere. Albom’s first nonfiction book since Tuesdays with Morrie, Have a Little Faith begins with an unusual request: an eighty-two-year-old rabbi from Albom’s old hometown asks…
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dragonmuse · 1 year
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@weirdnatasha and @believesinponds wanted to know if Pru Callahan ever ran into Izzy again as an adult.
There was a long wait at the passport office. Pru had made an appointment and figured that that meant there’d be some order to the whole thing, but instead, she’d been standing around for a half an hour with no end in sight. Annoyed, she searched the benches again for a place to sit and finally found an empty space.  It wasn’t very big, but neither was she.  
She moved down the row and said to the lady in a fluffy mink coat with her purse on the bench, “Excuse me, would you mind if I took a seat?”
The lady didn’t look up from her phone, didn’t acknowledge Pru at all. Someone snorted. The man on the other side. He glanced up at Pru and the unresponsive woman, gave her a sympathetic eye roll and moved the few inches of bench he had left to make room for her. 
She hadn’t addressed him first for good reason. He looked like the type of guy that would be unreasonable just for the hell of it, ancient black leather jacket, fading face tattoo, wire rim reading glasses and mostly silver hair raked back away from his face. Like he’d maybe got out of prison yesterday. Pru had maybe ignored the spot for just that reason until her feet started to ache. 
But he’d moved for her and she wasn’t going to ignore that. With a soft ‘thanks’, she sat down and sighed. 
“No problem,” he said hoarsely and when his eyes went down, it wasn't a phone, but a book. 
Pru didn’t read much, but the idea of a book appealed right now. She had her phone in hand, but if she looked at it, she’d have to check her email and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with her current client, who’s specification changed hour to hour. It was maddening. Instead, she wanted to think about this summer when she and Patrick would go to London, a week-long vacation that would take her out of the country for the first time in many years. 
The woman beside her reached for something in her purse, knocking her elbow into Pru. She grabbed the bench to keep from colliding with the man beside her, but still managed to knock her shoulder to his. 
“Sorry,” she sighed. 
“Don’t be,” the man glared not at her, but at the woman beside her. “She’s being a fucking asshole.” 
The language made Pru’s nose wrinkle a little, but she had to give a brief nod of acknowledgement.  In the shift, the cover of the book became more evident and she was surprised to recognize it. 
“My boyfriend’s daughter read that one,” she blurted, then flushed. There was no way this guy wanted to be compared to an adolescent girl.  “She liked it, I think.” 
“Got decent taste,” the man said, apparently unperturbed. “It’s not bad.” 
“Is it scary?” 
The man made a soft snorting sound, “Certainly trying to be.” 
“She had a nightmare and I wasn’t sure- well. Patrick always says she’s allowed to read what she likes, but I worry.” 
“The kid I got this from always says there are scarier things in high school every day than in his books,” the man said and Pru heard fondness there.  
“Hailey is still in middle school, but I guess that can be scary too.” 
“Way I remember it,” the man agreed and turned a page, probably trying to signal an end to the conversation. 
Pru accepted that. She opened her purse and rustled around a little, picking out old receipts and things that she could throw out, finding a stray advil that was more fuzz than pill. Gross. She should probably do this more often.  
“Israel Hands?” Someone called from the front. The man beside her got to his feet. 
It had been twenty years and if you had asked Pru an hour ago what Faith’s thug boyfriend’s name had been, she wouldn’t have been able to answer with a gun to her head. He’d just been a face in the hallway, a sneer and a curdled curse in her father’s mouth. 
But hearing it said rang down through the years and she could hear, for the first time in a long time, her sister’s voice clear as a bell. The breathy way she’d always said ‘Israel’ like she could hardly contain it in her mouth, the defiant way she’d hurled it at their parents like a shield. 
“No way,” Pru breathed out, but he was already standing at a window, talking with someone. 
She stared at him, heart thumping.  The last time she’d seen him had been the day he had come up to her in the halls and demanded the ring from her finger. She hadn’t wanted to give up the pretty delicate band. Her friends had been so nice about everything, fawning over her and resting her like a fragile thing in the days after her sister’s death. Pru had taken the ring from a tray set beside the body when they went to the funeral home. 
It had been the first dead body she’d ever seen. She’d had to sit through a wake like that, twisting the ring around and around her finger. The thing in the coffin wasn’t her sister, not least because their mother had chosen some dress Pru had never seen her wear, a floral thing and her face had been painted with more makeup than Faith ever actually wore. 
They’d fought and spat at each other, barely tolerant of each other’s presence, but they had also held hands in the dark and Faith had stood in front of Pru more than once, trembling as she did it, but holding firm. 
And he’d just shown up and taken that small bit of her sister away from her. Pru watched him talk to the clerk. Who was he now? A man reading a book with glasses that he’d now tucked away. 
Ancient bitter rage howled in her, warring against her sensible nature. 
When he finished and the next name was called, Pru got to her feet and gave away her spot. She followed him out of the passport office and he seemed to know it, turning to her as soon as they were both out on the sidewalk. 
“Did you go to Roosevelt?” She demanded, surprised by her own vehemence. 
“About a hundred years ago,” he said warily. “Why?” 
“You don’t remember me. No, of course you don’t,”  she stood straighter. “My name is-”
“Prudence,” he said softly. “Jesus fuck, Pru. I thought you looked familiar.” 
“I didn’t know it was you until I heard your name,” she said stiffly. “Listen. I don’t- I’m not sure what I want to say to you.” 
He took a step toward the building bringing them out of the flow of foot traffic. She stepped with him. He didn’t rush her, didn’t ask a thing. Just waited for her, hands in his pockets. 
“You- I was really angry back then. The way you took her ring from me. I didn’t have anything of hers left. They tossed it all, except that and her boots.” 
“Didn’t know that,” Israel frowned. “Tracks though.” 
“You could’ve let me had that.” 
“No,” he shook his head. “I couldn’t. It was my ring to her.” 
“It was?”
But as soon as the question was asked, it was answered. Of course it was. Their parents were handing out jewelry and Faith’s money was carefully saved. Pru had tried stealing a five once and Faith had noticed within hours. Instead of fighting, Faith had just coldly told her to return it and then hidden it so well that Pru didn’t find it again for months. 
“Promise ring. We were going to get married.” 
“She never-”  Pru cut herself off. Of course Faith hadn’t told her. They hadn’t been each other’s confidantes.  
“That was the plan.” And then he reached into his collar and Pru watched confused until he tugged loose a chain and there it was. 
“You still have it?”  Her anger melted away. She took a step closer and he let her though he watched her warily. 
It was Faith’s ring. It had to be. It looked too tiny for any reasonable adult hand.  Her sister had always been small. Frail. As if death had just been circling, waiting for her to fall. 
“Never took it off,” he confirmed and then it was gone again. A card appeared, white and classy. She hadn’t seen a business card in years. “I’ve got to run and you’re going to miss your appointment. You want to talk, you call.” 
She took the card bemused and watched him walk away. He had to be over fifty by now, decades away from the guy she’d usually heard referred to as ‘That Fucking Psycho that Your Sister Dates’.  
She went back into the passport office and sat back down next to the women in the fur coat. 
“Sorry,” the lady glanced up and moved her purse.  
“Thank you,” Pru said numbly. 
What kind of business did an ex-thug boyfriend with a face tattoo do? Pru held up the card and her breath caught in her throat. 
Callahan Investigations 
There was a website and she brought it up on her phone. It was simple, probably put together on one of those services where you could drag and drop things. There were three photos on the site, Izzy in a suit, with a list of qualifications. A younger person with sharp eyes, sitting on the edge of a glass desk. ‘Jim Jiminez’ apparently and an even younger person with one of those androgynous haircuts and a disconcertingly sunny smile compared to the other two ‘Read’ was the only name given.  
None of them said Callahan. 
He still wore her ring. 
Faith had been gone since before the turn of the millennium. 
Pru’s eyes stung. All these years, she’d assumed she was the only one carrying Faith’s memory. As far as Pru knew, their parents pretended that she’d never even been born until the day they died and whatever friends Faith had, hadn’t even made it to the graveside and after vague ‘sorrys’ in her direction, disappeared entirely. 
“Prudence Callahan?” The agent called and Pru got to her feet. 
She went through motions of bureaucracy and was grateful that she didn’t need to smile for a photo. 
When she got home, Jenny was making something in the kitchen which would either be amazing or a burnt, no in between. 
“That took ages,” Jenny said into a pot in the stove. “Told you should’ve gotten it started online.” 
“You were right,” Pru told her and sat down heavily at the table. 
“Woah, hey, what happened?” 
“I saw a ghost today.” 
It would take weeks before she could work herself up to send an email. She kept it bland enough. He agreed to meet her for coffee. She tapped the boots on the way out the door, too hot today to wear them, then paused. 
“You were loved, girlie,” she said softly to those boots. “Hope you know that. I’m going to go say hi to your boyfriend.” 
The boots said nothing back. The ring probably wouldn’t either. But Israel Hands could still talk and Pru would get memories from him that she could lock in her heart beside two girls holding hands in the dark.
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iamsalve · 3 months
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Quick Notes: Have a Little Faith by Mitch Albom
Genre: Nonfiction/Religion/Philosophy/MemoirCopy: PaperbackRating: 🌕🌕🌕🌕🌖 They said that each of us must have at least one book that we will reread at different stages throughout our earthly life. I guess, for me, that book would be Mitch Albom’s Have a Little Faith. I finished this book back in 2016 as a part of that year’s Popsugar Reading Challenge. It was under the category: “A book that…
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twunkzilla · 1 year
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sometimes peace does start out like months of crippling isolation lol just be resilient
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icarusislaughing · 1 year
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I'm about to take a take a shot in the dark when I can't see the target, bois. You know what that means.
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