Holding

I passed through fields of silk



and lace





and gold;



Chased the clouds,



and watched the sun unfold transparent gauze of light.



I drank it in.

And as the blanket, cool, descended on my skin,

I bowed in thanks again



for this small glimpse of Him Who gave a voice to stars



and holds me in His hand.

(For an old friend who is holding on, seeing the beauty in the midst of heaviness)

Questions

 

 He is our first grandchild.  Beautiful, sweet, intelligent.  Lover of Hotwheels and Legos.

As he reaches for a crayon he asks, "what does a question mark look like?" I respond, tracing imaginary curves in the air, then absentmindedly ask why.

"I'm drawing a question mark."

I return to my magazine. A few moments of silence pass. Then his response leaps back into my consciousness.

"I'm drawing a question mark."

I approach the crayon and paper strewn table, his hands are still busy at work. Now it's my turn to ask.

"Why are you drawing a question mark?" He is too busy to answer now, head bowed in creative concentration. Minutes pass. In the fullness of time he finishes, and proudly displays his work,  a large window box filled with living question marks.

"How beautiful! Tell me about your drawing."

He smiles, takes a big breath, and begins his presentation. When he is done, he pauses for my response.

I am speechless.

Hidden in the colored waxy lines on paper is the whole of life. Simple curves that speak volumes, glimmers of thoughts to come.

"And what do you do with the questions?"  His curiosity has encouraged mine.

"You eat them and they become part of your mind. And grow into bigger questions."

He is 5 years wise.

 

What questions will he eat in the years to come? What answers will he find?

For now, I draw him to me in a holy hug as the Fisherman did so long ago. 

"For such is the kingdom of heaven."

Happy Little House

Once upon a time there was a happy little house that lived near a big city.

(photo of the happy little house courtesy of Principessa)

It had a happy front door,

A happy flowered rug,

a happy back yard, and a happy coffee table.

In this happy little house lived Princepessa,

her two happy cats, (only one would sit still for his portrait, the other is a bit shy.)

and a happy little dog name Lucy (and her happy human friend.)

(photo of Lucy courtesy of her human friend)

 

The happy little house was so happy that soon after Principessa moved in, it arranged for a fireworks display. All over the neighborhood skies that night, the happy little houses oohed and ahhed over the brilliant colors.

Principessa oohed and ahhed too. (But not her unhappy little cats who were hiding under the bed. "Too many noises!" they meowed)

The unhappy little cats were soon happy again when the fireworks stopped. The happy little houses in the happy little neighborhood were happy it had rained before the noisy night and kept their happy little roofs safe.

But of all the happy little houses in that happy little neighborhood, this was the happiest of them all, because Principessa, her happy little cats, the happy little dog named Lucy (and her human friend) had come to stay.

The End.