When I was young, we had a neighbor named Iona Twosaw. Yes, it was an unusual name. I’m guessing she was in her 70’s. Her husband had died years before. I grew up in Triumph, a small village, amidst the corn fields in central Illinois. Sharing a cup of sugar was common because there was only a general store, only about the size of a small home and it was only open during the week days. Growing up in a large family, we where always running out of something. It was my job to run across the street to retrieve it. Iona and I talked for maybe 15 minutes that day. In returning home, I mentioned to my mom that she seemed very lonely. Mom suggested that next time I take the time, sit down and talk with her for a while… and listen to her story. So the next time, I sat and I listened for almost 3 hours.