The last thing I found was a place to spend the night.

I was traveling with my mother, my sister, and my three-month old nephew. My youngest is 13 and I'd forgotten quite a bit about babies. One thing I hadn't realized, or hadn't remembered, is that a baby sets the schedule for everyone else.

We planned to drive 300 miles and, of course, we planned to complete our trip in a single day. But my nephew changed our plans. Between time off the road for diaper changes and feeding times, we soon found ourselves driving down the highway in nearly total darkness. It was only 6 p.m., but darkness comes swiftly and brutally at this time of year.

So when we stopped at a rest stop (my request) and stayed there for thirty minutes (my nephew's demand), my mother picked up a book of hotel/motel coupons and I started looking through it.

We found a nice place to stay. A large room with amenities and even a pool downstairs (that we had no time to take advantage of). But I hadn't planned on spending two days on the road for a 300 mile trip.

Remember that next time you plan to take a road trip with a baby.

My husband and I promised his mother that we would live in Thailand. Our first attempt was in 1985, but it lasted only a few months. I was sick and pregnant and my mother-in-law encouraged me to return to my country so I could regain my health.

The second time we lived in the Thailand was in the early 90s. Overall, that attempt was a bit easier. I still had health problems toward the end of the two year period, though. We returned to the U.S. for a visit, with the intention of moving to Malaysia and still be close to his family (I already had a job offer there) but we were persuaded to stay in the U.S. My husband went back to talk with his mother. Once more, she put my needs first.

We did fulfill our promise, in a way. I was very fortunate to have such a loving and understanding mother-in-law.

We don't celebrate Christmas. One of our holidays, Eid'l Adha, is coming up in December. I've already bought the presents. Tomorrow I plan to go out and get some more candy.

On a personal level, what I'm most looking forward to this month is our trip to Florida during winter break. Here where we live the sky is gray and the air is cold. I can't wait to feel the heat of the sun and hear the roar or the ocean again.

I would like to say I wish for peace, but that won't happen this month. I am looking forward to January, when our country will have the chance for a new beginning.

Seeing my sons grow into adulthood and having more grandchildren.

The people who live here with me. :-)

My parents raised me to be honest. I doubt my father ever told a lie in his life, even one of those little white ones. We were taught to respect the property of others, admit to our own shortcomings, and generally not try to hide anything.

This lesson was fine when I was in high school and college. My mother taught me about how to watch out for others, especially gu.ys with a line, and I did just fine.

After college, though, I was in for a shock. People whom I considered my friends, people I worshiped with and worked with--some of these betrayed me.

My worst betrayals ended about five years ago, and I still carry the emotional scars. We left the town and the people behind, and have succeeded in building new lives. Here, where I live now, I feel I can trust people--most people, anyway.

But I still have a hard time not being naive about trust and truthfulness. Having grown up in a household where honesty was treasured, I can't imagine the thoughts and strategies of liars.

I like to be around someone who is easy-going, not demanding or bossy. I get tense around too much assertiveness or aggressiveness. Take life easy, and you and I will get along well.

I would be incredibly happy if the doorbell rang and I found my two oldest sons, with my daughter-in-law and two little granddaughters, waiting outside the door.

But that's not likely to happen, so I'll settle for a little writing inspiration before I go to bed.

How to make myself conform to a regular early-to-bed, early-to-rise schedule.

A few minutes ago we received a call telling us that one of the teachers in my son's small school just "lost" her mother.

The most difficult part of loving is losing the person you love.

The Qur'an speaks with great description about gardens and cooling streams in heaven. Those pictures are soothing, but my best understanding of the peace of heaven comes from C.S. Lewis, whom I read before becoming a Muslim.

He described heaven simply as being fully in the presence of God, our Creator. Hell, by definition, is God's total absence.

Living in the presence of God, and His Peace, is what I hope for most in the life after this one.

Prayer is very personal and I don't usually discuss it.

What do I believe to be the truth?

The night Barack Obama won the presidency.

This is a difficult question because I've had many happy times throughout my life. But I think I'm at my happiest right now. My kids are nearly grown. My husband and I are growing old together. I'm pursuing my dream of writing. And life simply feels more satisfactory after 50. My body will never be as toned as it was 20 or 30 years ago, and I won't have as much energy as I did then. But I'm more content than I've ever been, and that's wonderful.

When I was 21 and about to graduate from college I wanted to join Peace Corps, but at that time I couldn't meet their stricter physical health requirements. Now the requirements aren't as strigent and I'm trying to persuade my husband to go volunteer with me after his retirement. A Peace Corps volunteer in Thailand was instrumental in helping him come to the U.S. to study, so I'm sure he knows the important of this organization.

Of course, I'm also working to convince my college-age sons. Hopefully at least one will pursue this.

When I was young, winter meant snow days and snow balls and walking in snow that was higher than my knee. It also meant Christmas and presents and spending all of Christmas Day at my grandmother's house while the women talked and the men slept in front of the TV.

Now winter means cold and snow and ice and I try to stay inside because I hate to be cold. I no longer celebrate Christmas and it's just another day, though I wish I could share the nostalgia I sometimes feel with my husband and sons who have never experienced a single Christmas.

Sixteen years ago the first full day of winter meant the day I gave birth to my fifth son. He didn't want to come and had to be induced. Even then it took all day. Being my only winter baby, he cried more than the others. I don't know if it was because he wanted to go outside, but I sure did. Oh, and tomorrow his father will take him to the DMV to, hopefully, get his driver's permit. After that they'll go to the bank so he can open his first checkng account.

Winter also means winter break. Last year we drove down to Florida and we plan to do the same this year. For nine days I'll get away from the cold and the snow and be able to enjoy the sun again.

Isn't it only about six more weeks until Groundhog Day?

On a school bus during a group tour of the town of Kirksville, Missouri which was part of a welcoming program for new international students at Northeast Missouri State University (now Truman State University). I attended as a representative of the local Lutheran church.

Right now I'm chilling in a hotel room in Birmingham, Alabama. While eating out I met someone who, I have the feeling, could become a very good friend. Tomorrow we plan to begin our 2008 Florida adventure. The song that comes to mind is "Feeling Groovy."

My laptop. We're on vacation and, for a while, I was the only one who could get an internet connection. So I let my son check his email and Facebook. What I didn't realize, though, when I posted a comment on Facebook is that he was still logged in. So he'll get the credit (or blame) for my remark.

My granddaughters. Sunshine. A sweet gesture from my husband. Terrific scenery. A thoughtful act by one of my boys. Certain songs, especially those I loved while I was growing up. Reading a book that inspires me. Meeting someone with whom I connect. Feeling energetic enough to do everything I want during the day. And right now I'm sitting across from the Atlantic Ocean, under a dark sky full of stars in a remote area south of St. Augustine, Florida. Memories of this moment will keep me going for a long time.