Caroline began her walk down the aisle, arm-in-arm with her father, Gustave Mercier, a well-respected merchant in the French Creole community. Her gown was a vision of delicate lace and silk, the train trailing behind her like a gentle wave. She was radiant, her eyes locking onto James's as if they were the only two people in the world. As she reached the altar, her father handed her over to James. "Take care of my daughter," Gustave whispered to James, his eyes both stern and misty. "I will, sir, with all my heart," James assured him. The priest, a stout man with a robust voice, began the ceremony. "Do you, James, take Caroline to be your lawfully wedded wife?" "I do," James responded, his voice unwavering. "And do you, Caroline, take James to be your lawfully wedded husband?" "I do," she echoed, her eyes moist with emotion...

The years flew by like the swift Caribbean winds...

James and Caroline sat in their study; their treasured family album open on their laps. They could not remember the last time they had looked at these pictures. The album began with a single portrait of most of the family: father, mother, and twelve of their thirteen children. The photography of the day only allowed photos taken by professional photographers given ample time to set up their equipment, leaving no room for spontaneity. Each grainy sepia photograph was a window into a past both far and near. As Caroline turned the page, her eyes fell upon their eldest, Sophia. "She was always so mature," she mused, tracing the edges of the image with her finger, caressing her face. James chuckled. "I remember when she was just twelve and insisted on helping me with the ledgers during a visit to my office. Had a head for numbers even then."...

The Circle of Life!

What is this life. Its purpose? What was this all for? "The events of our lives, once so important, dissolve into nothingness with the passage of time. And so the moving finger writes...