author moments

You Are Beautiful

I recently met the sweetest little four year old girl. A petite little thing. An extremely polite young lady. As cute as she could be. She was enjoying a day at the playground where I played tennis nearby with her mom.

She was climbing the steps of the slide ladder over and over this day just to enjoy the air blowing in her face as she swept down the slide. Up. Down. Up. Down. Giggles galore. She played a little with her brother but also enjoyed her solo rides on the slide while we played tennis. Took a break or two to enjoy her sucker as well.

After her play time we had our brief introduction. My first time meeting her. She was a sweet little girl in a flowered dress and barefoot skipping around the play area. Pausing to say hi to me.

She taught me a little something about beauty on this day. She whispered to me in her soft and shy voice. I’m beautiful because my heart is so big. What a simple statement full of so much power. All this power and beauty was beaming from this sweet little four year old.

When I picked her up and gave her a hug. She squeezed back like no other. She is full of so much love and to see her share it was so amazing. This was a chance encounter but one I was grateful for.

Sometimes it’s nice to visit with little people. They are brutally honest and can lighten the craziness of a day. I don’t have little ones under my roof currently so this was a sweet moment to savor.

Just a tidbit for today. A little clip of sunshine for the world from the mouth of a innocent 4 year old girl wise beyond her years.red heart

3Splitz Farm

Rain

5:00 am wakeup call. The faint sound…you hear it on the rooftop. Pit pat pit pat or maybe its thrummmmm. Rain. Do I drift back to sleep?

Some may say they hate the rain. For a long time, I was one of them. Rain on marching band performances made our heavy wool uniforms stink. Rain on Disney days had us dragging out the dreaded ponchos. Rain on Halloween meant a raincoat over my costume. Rain is taking things away.

Then the rain took on new meaning.

During my mother’s funeral luncheon an enormous storm came out of nowhere. We were at the Stone Mountain Women’s Club. Picture a series of long foldup tables with every variety of salad: chicken salad with grapes and almonds, macaroni salad with bits of ham and roasted peppers, bean salad with vinegar dressing. Allllllll the mayonnaise. Then the hot dishes…chicken rice casserole with peas and melted cheese, macaroni and cheese with toasty breadcrumbs, pineapple casserole under a blanket of buttery Ritz crackers. And the desserts, oh the desserts. Cookies, bars, bundt cakes, and light green pistachio fluff. A meal fitting for one of the members of the cookbook committee.

We sat at the long tables, all gathered to honor my mother. The old wooden A-frame with the floor-to-two-story-ceiling windows. I looked over with my full plate and plastic silverware.

The trees twisted, branches ready to slip off their bending trunks. Leaves and pinestraw flying. Back and forth with abandon. If we had phones back then I’m sure they’d have all been buzzing with warnings. Summer storms come quickly in the South. We all just watched the sky turn green and the rain pour down on that summer afternoon. Wondering if the windows would shatter. Eventually it calmed down, but the storm stayed with me.

Ever since that time, rain is a comfort. But still an inconvenience. My mother is gone, why shouldn’t the sky cry?

And now today. Rain…

makes traffic worse

is a hazard on the trail

keeps me from having fun outside

makes the dogs antsy

messes up my hair

creates an endless need to sweep and mop the floor

matches the sadness inside

and and and. So while the rain seems appropriate, it still brings its challenges.

Then, a life change brings yet another shift in thinking.

This time it’s…

tulips,

daffodils,

crocus,

ranunculus,

anemones.

We’re on our way to flower farming. We just finished our first bed of spring flowers. Row after row of plump bulbs, tucked into the soil with fertilizer, peat moss, and hope. I don’t see them every day so I find myself wondering about them…are they happy in their new bed? Now my peeks at the weather forecast aren’t so much about what I should wear but about the bulbs. Like babies away at boarding school. Do they have what they need? A bit of sunshine and enough to drink?

Rain is their friend. I think of how thankful they must be for the nourishment. The refreshment. I smile when I look through my windows at work and see the rain coming down. It takes some storms and inconvenience in order to grow. Storms may bend us but not break. Welcome every season and the nourishment it brings. A change in my mind. One of many lessons from the blossoms.