Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • While we were growing up, taking turns with washing and drying dishes, we sang to pass the time. With four years between us, we were in separate school choirs that sang at separate Sunday Masses, so our kitchen was the only cathedral in which we sang together. During our scullery masses, I sang with heartfelt emotion while her voice fluidly danced across octaves with crystal clear resonance that sent shivers up my spine. I'd not yet heard of chakras, but her range pierced right through mine, bottom to top and top to bottom. Eventually, I learned to move my own voice through my chakra column, but I'll forever treasure those moments of holy communion.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.