As the hands of the sun gently lifted the curtain of night, the aroma of warm, dry flour simmering in melted butter and caramelized onions woke me with a pleasantness I had not experienced since childhood. I rushed through the morning routine, eager to meet my parents. As I entered the kitchen, I was greeted by their love and warmth. Perhaps it was the atmosphere, perhaps the events leading up to that morning, I felt like a child rushing home from the cold and dark woods, to be greeted by his parents. I felt safe. I felt loved.
Well past his bedtime, I found my ten-year-old intently focused on the objects that lay before him. Glue, scissors, paper and tape gave away the story. Not meaning to disrupt his mission, yet needing to assert my parental responsibility, I cleared my throat, hoping for attention. He turned around, victory pouring from every ounce of his tiny being, holding a complex paper model of the Empire State Building. Instinctively, I reached out to hold the paper model in my hands, amazed that a young child had completed a task intended for much older and mature audience. As I examined the marvel he had created, a rush of memories flooded me, and I found myself standing atop the Empire State Building, watching the sun, setting far into the distance.
She stands firmly against a linen white wall, an odd shaped red chair with swirling shadow stripes, making it come alive. She beams with radiance, waiting patiently for someone to be seated. Waiting for someone to tell her story. Waiting… Continue reading The Red Chair
In a word, tranquility. Not that Prairies weren’t tranquil, but the sound of waves called out to me once too often. My lovely maiden concurred and the story began. A Nor’easter welcomed us and the land embraced us. Kids were young and beauty abound, it was a great move! It was a tranquil move.
Our first summer was hot. Humid and Hot. The gentle waves of north shore were warm enough to recharge us from the weariness of travel. The gentle summer breeze, rolling over red sands, caressed the trees and eased our stress; and we welcomed it, with delight.
Moving is difficult. Crazy. Leaving behind the sounds that surrounded us, the serenity that captivated us, the love that bound us was hard. It was our faith that kept us strong. Our friends heartened us, our faith stimulated us and we began our journey to abide in Prince Edward Island.
Lesson learned: Change is necessary, change is essential. We must be strong hearted. It can be rewarding, but comes at a price. Andre Gide observed, eloquently, that “Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.”
If you know someone who needs to be strong hearted, reach out. Touch them. Hold their hand; comfort them with your words; hearten them with your energy. Be a friend. Help them be strong hearted. Help them be tranquil.
In the end, all praise belongs to God, Creator of the world. God is, in a word, tranquility.
Be in peace. See you soon!