Monday, 13 July 2015
Small and wonderful things . . .
"The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside from a generous hand. But who gets excited by a mere penny?...It is dire poverty indeed when a man is so malnourished and fatigued that he won't stoop to pick up a penny. But if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted with pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. what you see is what you get." ~Anne Dillard
A few of the small and wonderful things which bring untold joy into my life. It's the small things in life which truly mean the most. Simple abundance . . . it's the best.
Sometimes I get really discouraged about my artwork because it never seems to get anywhere. I should have started investing myself in it a long, long time ago instead of waiting until my twilight years. But then, when I was younger . . . I was busy doing other things like raising a family.
But then . . . I get a message from an old school chum, someone I have known for probably 49 years, and they tell me about how something I have painted has inspired them to want, be, do . . . better. To be happy. And it doesn't matter anymore that my art doesn't seem to get any recognition by the industry, because that is totally why I do it . . . to inspire others. And if I have done that, then it is just the best thing ever, and I feel like I've gotten a special gift . . . because to even inspire one person means the world to me.
Rainy days. We need them too. I love to lay in bed and hear it pitter patting on the roof. It's a melody that is soothing and delightsome to my soul. I think of the earth drinking it up . . . and how it collects in on the petals and in the cupped leaves of the plants in the garden like little crystal jewels.
My morning bowl of Cheerios. I love cold cereal. I have a memory of sitting in my brother's high chair and eating a bowl of cold cereal while I watch television after my brother and sister have been put to bed. I am allowed to stay up because I am older. My mother has the carpet rolled up in the living room and she is scrubbing the floors. I am only five or six years old.
My favourite cold cereal is Kellogg's Cracklin Oat Bran . . . but we cannot get it here. Sigh. So I eat Cheerios. They almost give me as much pleasure, not quite, but almost . . .
The old mantle clock which sits on the top shelf of our dining room hutch. It chimes on the hour and half hour and tick tocks in between. It is a sound that comforts. I wonder why that is.
Having a son who calls his grandmother on her birthday without being prompted to do so. He is my little fuzzy bear, no matter that he stands about six inches taller than I am . . . he will always be my little fuzzy bear. His heart and my heart are very good friends. When I look at this photo of him, I see that he is wearing the winnie the poo pajamas that have already been through his older brother and two older sisters . . . they are so old that I have had to cut the feet off of them. We were so poor, and yet . . . . we were also rich in many other ways. He has finally gotten a job after having been through several years of unemployment. That is an answer to prayer. Answered prayers are small and simple blessings . . . and yet . . . they are huge.
My days are filled with reminders of my Heavenly Father's great love for me. I am so thankful that I have a heart which feels His presence.
A thought to carry with you through today . . .
The clock of life is wound but once,
and no man has the power.
To tell just when that clock will stop,
at late or early hour.
Now is the only time you own,
live...love...toil with the will...
Place no faith into tomorrow,
for the clock may then be still.
I'm talking about Food Waste in The English Kitchen today and serving up some delicious Twice Baked Potatoes!
I wish for you a fabulous week filled to overflowing with small and wonderful things! Don't forget . . .
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And I do too!