[Original printing date 1963 Harcourt Brace and World
Reprinted 1998 by Signature Mormon Classics
Paperback. 220 Pages.]

In third grade I discovered and was captivated by Sorensen's Miracles on Maple Hill. Years later I shared it with my own children. Imagine my delight and surprise to finally discover Virginia Sorensen's LDS roots and affinity for her culture of origin. She was raised in a partially active LDS home, in intensely active Utah rural areas: Provo, Manti and American Fork. Sorensen's lovingly remembered fictions of her childhood were like echoes of memories for me as well; I've heard my parents and grandparents reminisce about similar things over the years. She captures the entire range of LDS life, from extremely conservative Mormons to third generation converts who pick and choose which doctrines they will live. And each strata is painted with a gentle and loving hand -- no castigations, no judgments. The people in her stories come to life in full dimensions more loveable for their foibles.

The foreword, by Susan E. Howe gave me greater insight into Sorensen's life, writing, and her place among LDS literati. Howe reports that Eugene England called Virginia Sorensen the mother of the LDS personal essay. That seems to have irritated her some; she energetically maintained these short stories were fictional however freely laced with autobiographical details. Whatever. Whether the stories are essays or fictions, they weave a colorful fabric of life in early Utah, post-pioneer, but near enough to touch those roots. For someone like me, fifth generation from those stern loins, it was a glimpse into life for grandma and grandpa, great-grandma and grandpa too.

For others it can't help but stir longings for slower-paced times in our America, much like Willa Cather's My Antonia and Mildred Walker's Winter Wheat, but with a uniquely Mormon twist. Work may have been constant and non-stop for the adults in the early 1900's and the westward migration, but the children had long days of wading in ditches, eating peaches, preparing for community picnics and 4th of July celebrations. Sorensen paints an idyllic haze of protection and innocence around the children.

When Sorensen writes in the story "First Love" of playing outside on summer nights -- Hide and Seek, Run Sheep Run -- I realized it was a tradition handed down to my own suburban Utah childhood in the 1960's. I did those things. I played those games. We had a gang that roamed the streets until 10 o'clock curfew each night, not looking for or causing trouble, but wrapped up in our own juvenile world of who loves or hates who for tonight. Reading Sorensen's story, I felt a powerful connection to my parents and grandparents who allowed that tradition to continue. Then, with a pang, I realized my own children (in the 80's and 90's) didn't enjoy that delicious scary freedom of dark streets, so different than in the day. What drove the children indoors? Parental fear of strangers and gangs? Too many programmed lessons and activities? I only have one 14 year old daughter left at home. I wonder if she'll play hide-and seek with me tonight?

Sorensen writes even-handedly whether exploring spiritual experiences or questioning doubts, "apostate" grandparents who still bring joy and love, beloved pets or secret codes with best friends. The narrative voice is clear and child-like, immediate, yet imbued with the distance of age remembering when. It is filled with the wonder, confusion, and fear of a child noticing the nuances of the adult world.

The book is a fast read -- a summer afternoon spent with dear relations and friends.