By SEAN DIETRICH A crowded plane. I had an aisle seat. The guy beside me was snorting. I say “snorting” because he was actually making swine-like sounds as he slept. I am a frequent flyer; I’ve heard lots of snoring. But it had been a long time since I heard anyone...

“I am a little old woman who lives in an assisted living facility…” her email began.  Her following message was about the length of “War and Peace.” She is a woman who is as sweet as Karo syrup. But — and I mean this respectfully — brevity is not her strong suit....

The little girl sits in a hospital room.  She lives here. In this bed. In this university hospital. She lives in this gown. She usually plays on her iPad. All by herself. This is her life.  She’s been sad lately.  “A lot of people don’t think about the...

Ash Wednesday. The first day of Lent. I saw him in a Birmingham supermarket. He was young. Latino. Maybe 11 or 12. He was wandering through the aisles, helping random people.  I have been writing this column for a decade now. Some days it’s a struggle. Some days...