Welcome to White Pitchers, a collection of stories from life about family, faith and friendships. It is inspired by one of my favorite things, my collection of tag sale white ironstone pitchers. Mostly they are plain and simple curvy shapes with graceful curlicue handles, but one my Mom gave me is a tiny monk, his round belly encircled by a rope belt. When I stumble into the kitchen each morning before dawn, I choose a pitcher from the shelf to splash cream in my coffee. For me, this is the time of day for writing and reflection while the house is dark and quiet. I pour over my favorite book and God pours into me. I’d like to tell you that these little treasures do not sit there and collect dust, but the maid being what she is (me), well now, that would just be a boldfaced lie. Hold out your cup my friend and let me pour you a sip of honest truth and southern charm.