Sweet Innocence

Gracie Snow Bunny

My grand-daughter is one of the greatest gifts to me,

A tender child of sweet innocence.

She reads books in make-believe languages,

Sounding out words in lilting voices while blowing kisses into  air.

She smells perfume in buttered flowers scattered where others view weeds,

Chasing butterflies within fields where moths often fly.

She sees worms on warm sidewalks wiggling with wonder,

Grown-ups step purposely, never asking themselves, “why?”

She lifts miniature  hands high in the sky reaching for magic snowflakes,

Hoping they’ll be here tomorrow and the next day and the next…

She hears blue birds singing precious melodies,  

Others couldn’t care less.

She finds treasures in broken twigs or shimmering rocks resting in shallow ponds, 

No one else thinks twice about.

Each and every day brings brand new joy for her,

Spilling over with love, enough to tip a pot of paint.

I can’t believe my luck,

To share this gift from God above.

If I could make one simple wish upon a star for her,

It would be to keep her sweet innocence forever and a day or more….

The Gift of Modern Medicine

There is a normal routine I follow each and every day.  It was interrupted briefly, yesterday, by my own, “Chronic Condition.”

In the still shadows of early morning, I awoke with the faintest sign of a migraine headache.  I’ve had enough of them to know by now that one was stalking me.  Not quite there…  Still, it was slowly creeping very near.  Rolling from bed, I went to splash warm water upon my face.  Staring back from a glazed mirror above the toasted, speckled sink were swollen eyes: a second sign.


Joyous “Bundle of Awards”

I must thank someone who has nominated my blog for the most joyous, “Bundle of Awards.”  I do not know how to thank him.  Yes, me, the person who usually has many words to “say.”  I am humbled, thankful, and “speechless” trying to tap something out on my keyboard today.

Mahesh Nair, is the person who has nominated my blog.  He too, is nominated for these awards,  If he should win, I will be extremely happy and excited for him!  He has the most wonderful, award-winning blog himself.   Please stop by to visit, http://thewritemight.me/.  You will find him to be an honest, sincere, kind man who writes wonderful words.  When he believes in something, whether it is a cause or a mission he sticks with it.  Mahesh has values in life, ideals of importance and meaning.  You will note many varieties in his writing which broaden his “voice.”  Trained as an actor as well as a writer, he brings many perspectives to the words he taps out.

It is ironic in this virtual writing world since I do not “know” Mahesh, personally, yet through his writings I feel like I do.  I have great respect for him as a person.  Given the chance, he is someone I would enjoy drinking a cup of coffee while discussing life with.

Thank you, kindly, Mahesh, for your nomination.  I wish you the best of luck, and to the other nominees as well.

Shauny Award-For Blogging Excellence

Shauny Award

Dragon’s Loyalty Award


Very Inspiring Blogging Award


Liebster Award

liebster blog share the love

Sunshine Award


Award for Love and Kindness



I’ve been privileged to witness positive lessons in love and natural family bonding.  My son and daughter-in-law will welcome their second baby this coming spring.  This miracle will be born sometime during the first week in May, the doctor has projected.  A precious infant boy is expected.

While visiting family this past weekend, it was delightful to see my grand-daughter kissing her mother’s growing tummy.  She is the little moppet child who delights me so by tugging on my hand to say, “Grandma, come!” When asked where her “Baby Brother” was coming from, she giggled while lifting up her t-shirt.  “Your belly?” we asked, in exaggerated astonishment.  “Yes,” she answered, teasingly.

If ever I needed a camera it was then.  A “Norman Rockwell,” painting it could have been! I saw the profile of a mother caressing her bulging belly with loving hands.   My grand-daughter ran to her, stopping in front to teeter on tippy toes.  Leaning gently forward, she puckered up to kiss an unborn angel’s imaginary cheek.  It was as if a tiny blushed rosebud blew whispers of love through her brother’s sanctuary.

Later, my son put his arm around his wife.  There, he rested his head upon her soft shoulder length hair.  He looked like he felt, pure heaven.  “I can’t wait until our baby boy is here,” he whispered in her ear.  A dreamy smile swept across his face.  Perhaps he had silent thoughts of playing ball or catching dragonflies in nighttime skies?

The dynamics of family bonding change when a miracle is about to arrive.  Love grows deeper. Trust becomes stronger.  Joy is never hidden.  Toddlers are taught.

And, heaven is found on earth……

Little Girl Kissing Mom

Happy Birthday

It is the still dark of “pre-dawn.”  I sit here tapping keys on my keyboard near a dim-lit floor lamp during a thunderstorm that has just begun.  Lightning flashes through wooden blinds surrounding my work desk tucking me inside the cocoon of my office turret.  Rumbling sounds of thunder are all around, outside the windows of my home.   Yet, I feel safe here.


The ‘Model’ Girl

While shopping for a gift for my son’s birthday, I stopped at one of our major department stores.  You would recognize its name if given here.  It’s one of the mall’s Anchor stores.

Bending down to peer inside a case of clear glass, I was awed by its riches, a medley of valuables in all sizes and shapes.  I was quite intrigued by an array of special ball point pens.  Most were made from artful mosaic glass, with cases to match.   Lying next to them were sleeping lead pencils in beds of deep blue velvet.  Together, they created a beautiful display.  Like a painting that should have been hung on someone’s wall instead of hidden behind a case for the likes of you or me to see.

A trio of young women soon swooped by, nearly knocking me off my wobbly feet.  I was still low to the ground to see the unique treasures inside the glass.  None of the women stopped to apologize, instead they giggled and laughed, moving on their merry way.  Instinctively, I grabbed hold of the nearest thing to break my fall, leaving my DNA upon the showcase.  The police did not have to be called to dust for finger prints.  There they were in plain sight.

Quickly, a tall dark ‘model’ girl came rushing from behind the counter, her designated sales spot.  “Don’t touch the glass,” she scoffed at me!  “I’m sorry,” I answered back.  I was just admiring your pens.  A gift for my son,” I went on to say.   I thought about mentioning the three women who nearly knocked me over, yet I didn’t bother.  This ‘model’ girl’s main priority seemed to be cleaning the glass.  She sighed.  Clicking her tongue, she rolled her big brown eyes.  Quickly, she grabbed a white cloth together with her blue cleaner.

When the the ‘model’ girl finished her task, I was about to ask to see one of the beautiful pens behind her spotless, clean case.  It was then that I noticed her eyes glistening with dampness.  I sensed something in her and in return she sensed something in me.  “I’m truly sorry that you’re having a bad day,” I said from behind the counter a few feet away.

Holding her head high, this lovely ‘model’ girl brushed back falling tears.  From behind the counter, a soft, pink tissue appeared.  Somewhere deep inside, she regained her composure, her strength.  I don’t know how.  Reaching across the counter, she gripped my hand looking for comfort then, “I have breast cancer.  My surgery is tomorrow.”

The Estate Sale

This morning, I listened to a lengthy message played back upon on my phone.  It was my father’s voice.  Over the weekend, an “Estate Sale,” was held to empty the contents of my mother’s house.  Although it had been my father’s home too, he had moved on: rightly so.  Gone were his belongings together with the simple things he had chosen to take with him to the next phase of his life.


A Cabinet Full of Heart

Today I wish for each of you to have a dream come true.

Yesterday morning a sizable truck with orange letters on both sides pulled up to the front of my house.   While I was working at my half-moon desk, I heard the sound of the snow go, “Crunch.”  It was deeper this time, telling me this could be the moment I had been waiting for.  I jumped to see.  From behind our leaded glass door, my heart filled with glee.



Yesterday, I saw my vocal doctor again, the one at Barnes Hospital in downtown St. Louis, who wears the crisp white lab coat.  Directed to a different room this time, I noticed a larger blue vinyl chair.  Looking like it reclined a bit, I doubted this.  I am at the point in my treatment where it’s time to make a decision.