pennies from heaven

Under the yellow vine that is hanging near my writer's desk is a male cardinal. What a striking bird he is. I don't even mind that he is grabbing some of the flowers for lunch. He deserves those and more. Jumping around in and out of the vine is a brown thrasher, the state bird of Georgia. If I sit still, all this comes to me.

I have written of the bounty that I find when I stroll the park near my house. A crayon of the most beautiful blue,.a Happy Halloween sign, a thick artist's pencil, a dime. And once in awhile in my life a special gift comes; an old friend appears bearing his story, and memories. In the fifty years since I have seen him, he has accomplished much and raised a beautiful family.Olive plants a plenty around his table.A good man who remembers me as a teenager : who knew my long gone family.What price can you put on such knowing in a world that is spinning so fast ?

Black and white pictures of Jones Beach and smiles.We were young then and good.There is nothing in the memories to mar who we were. Trips to N.Y.C., football games, movies, trying to learn how to drive a stick shift in the beach parking lot. American stories. Who knew that running under all these things was movement towards a good life for us both. It brings me untold pleasure to know that this man, with determination and grit, has had a successful life.Not without challenges because of his service to our country, but a happy one.

There is such bounty in this world if we slow down and be still.; if we look for it as one might check the ground for pennies.(I always do). Maybe that will be what my pen records this Lent.

May we feel His Presence in all things.