It happened on a Christmas Eve on the Oak Point Rd in the mid-90s that a certain home was visited by two travelers. They had abandoned their car in a snowy ditch and walked the icy road to my door! What does it matter that the woman was loud with good cheer or the man intoxicated on spirits? Here they were stamping their cold feet against the floor and blowing their warm breath into their hands. Soon they were drinking hot chocolate and biting into sugar cookies. I'd never entertained Christmas travelers before! Total strangers had come out of the darkness and into my light. They could have been the holy family seeking shelter and they had found it with me. My husband went out into the cold night, found the car and pulled it out. Then he returned for the couple and as they left the woman took my hand. "God bless you," she whispered with glittering eyes. She knew we were sharing a beautiful moment.
This morning I went for a slushy walk. So much wet, heavy snow. Some walkways were still unshoveled. At times I walked in the street. Some people were bent over their shovels muttering about "three more days of snow." But at the entrance to our building stood a snowman! He was no more than two feet tall but large with good humor and great with holiday grace.
Jenkinson wrote that from his mentor Mike Jacobs, "I learned to lie still under the wind and listen to the grass. I learned to befriend the wind. I learned the value of silence in wild places." Oh, what a splendid education.
Mary Oliver wrote of herself, "...though I'm not twenty and won't be again but ah! Seventy. And still full of beans." Now there's a goal! Hey, will somebody please pass the beans!
This morning I went for a slushy walk. So much wet, heavy snow. Some walkways were still unshoveled. At times I walked in the street. Some people were bent over their shovels muttering about "three more days of snow." But at the entrance to our building stood a snowman! He was no more than two feet tall but large with good humor and great with holiday grace.
Jenkinson wrote that from his mentor Mike Jacobs, "I learned to lie still under the wind and listen to the grass. I learned to befriend the wind. I learned the value of silence in wild places." Oh, what a splendid education.
Mary Oliver wrote of herself, "...though I'm not twenty and won't be again but ah! Seventy. And still full of beans." Now there's a goal! Hey, will somebody please pass the beans!
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