WHY GOD MADE DOGS

The Messenger

Sunshine or cloudy

you are always here with me

brightening my day!

By Martha L Shaw © 2015

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OPEN YOUR HEART!

If we know the truth of the following words and that they apply to each of us created in His image, AS WE ARE, why must the hate continue to defeat love? Where is peace?

14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.[a]
Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well. -Psalm 139:14

 

RESTORATION

Cry

Tears are like refreshing rain

Restoring the parched land of the soul

And welcoming new life.

By Martha L Shaw ©8-29-2015

Riches Redefined

My first car,

Though rusty and dented,

Was beautiful to me.

It cost little

And that was what I had.

It set me free!

No radio,

So I had to sing.

In summer

My open window refreshed me

As the aroma of cut grass reached me

Along with the sound

Of kids at play.

I’ve had other cars since then,

But was that one

the worst or best?

By Martha L Shaw – ©12-26-2014

Window Falls – Your Child May Be At Risk

Did you know that in the last 2 decades over 100,000 children under the age of 5 were injured or killeed from falling out of windows?  This isn’t a big city problem.  It is happening in modest homes and most often through screens in first and second floor windows.  Please read my recent article on Technorati for details.

Leaping For Joy!

Just driving down the street to fill my car with gas the other day brought tears to my eyes as memories of my Dad came flooding back to me.  The anniversary of his death is coming near.  My Dad was my hero but not because he invented something world changing and not because he discovered a cure for the common cold.  My Dad was a country boy.  In my eyes he could do anything.  He found joy in simple things and taught me to do so as well.  He always had a smile, a laugh, a hug.  As I drove down the street with my car windows open, I saw a bit of smoke in the air and heard the crackling sounds of a brush fire well controlled in the neighbor’s yard and smelled that oh so familiar smell.  The smoke didn’t bring tears to my eyes, though.  It was the memories from long ago. 

One of my favorite memories is really just a small thing and yet I can remember it so well now as decades have passed and I am that 6 year old again.  I can hear the sounds from that day long gone, can smell the aromas that marked the day, and feel the textures.  Daddy was out in the yard raking leaves.  We had lots and lots of them as the yard and neighborhood were filled with trees and it was autumn.  The lovely colors were turning to rust as the leaves dried out and fell from the trees and he had a huge pile of them ready to burn.  I watched.  I can hear the squeak of the rake against the hard earth.  I can hear the crunch of the branches and dried  brush under my feat.  I watched from the stairs as the pile grew higher and higher.  Finally Daddy was satisfied with his progress and went into the cellar to get a hose and some matches to burn the leaves and put out the fire.  As he disappeared from view, I saw my opportunity

Jumping up from my watchful spot on the stairs, I ran to the pile of leaves and leaped into the pile!  As I did, the leaves flew into the air and I landed on the soft pile and then leaped up again and again!  Each time I landed back down into the soft, dry leaves, I swung my arms about me and giggled with joy as the leaves flew higher and higher into the air then fell back to land on my nose, in my hair, and scattered about the yard!  It seemed to me at the time that Daddy must have been having trouble finding that hose because I had plenty of time to leap for joy in the pile of leaves!  Looking back, I am older now than my Daddy was then and I know he must surely have been standing nearbv and watching me.  Maybe he was remembering the small boy he used to be and remembering my Grampa doing what he was doing. 

 Daddy had to do a lot of the raking all over again after my time spent playing with the pile of leaves was over.  I remember it all so well.  I don’t recall getting scolded, though, nor even frowned at.  I only recall the grin on Daddy’s face as he came from around the corrner of the yard carrying the hose and box of matches.  I can hear his laughter even now.

I love you, Daddy!

 

Leaping . . . Giggling . . . Remembering . . . Happy Tears

If your childhood was anything like mine, you will recall collecting colorful Autumn leaves, jumping in piles of them, and maybe getting gently scolded for having bits of dry brush on your clothing and in your hair.  If so, this post on my Open Salon Blog will bring back happy memories for you and I invite you to pop over by clicking the link.  Here are some photographs of New England’s colorful Fall leaves.