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Missouri had some seriously wacky weather last week and I know we aren’t the only US state to experience it.  On Wednesday, the high was something like 6 and I don’t even remember what the windchill was.  Saturday it was something like 60 and I noticed that something is sprouting in my flower beds.  Technically, it should be the crocus because they should come up before the daffodils.  But these leaves look a little heavy to be crocus.  I shall see what I shall see when they are a little farther along.

More than anything I wanted to get out the kneeler and start working with a hand rake to pull the leaves out of the beds that line the front of the house. I would get to feel the sun on my back and listen to the bird song while I piddled along.  We have many feet of garden beds – I’m not sure why this seemed like such a good idea.  I’m really not very talented.  We joke that some things thrive in spite of me.

What can I say?  Gardening in moderation makes me happy.  It relaxes me.  When I’m on my knees working in the beds, I feel closer to God.  Is it because I’m on my knees?  Or is it because my hands are in the soil?  I have no clue.   But one thing is sure – taking part in God’s creation is good for the soul.



Letting this one speak for itself today.


When I was small, I spent many summers with my grandparents.  I’d be in rural Missouri and the suburbs of St. Louis with one set and small town West Texas with the other.  In West Texas, I was part of a very mixed community.  At the park, we’d play marvelously complex games on the train or covered wagon.  Sometimes we all spoke English but that wasn’t always the case.

I later discovered that my grandmother worried about my meager Spanish.  “How could you know what they were saying?”

She assumed it could be something bad.  I was even more certain that we were simply cheering each other on.  I couldn’t hear their words and understand, but in my heart?  I was certain and I am still am.

See with your heart.



Have a Mary Little Christmas

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