It's the coldest night we've had so far. There was much on the farm to be done. Much to do before they could go. To a people in need. There is winterizing the well. Because cows can not live with out water. There are instructions and lists to be made. Nieces and High School students willing to help. To rise before dawn in the bitter cold. To serve. And to think my farmer is letting it all go. He is willing to push aside the anxiety. The fear of something going wrong. To go. To head to a people made in ... View Post
The Heartbeat Of Women
It's right there on the return address label. I am surprised by the emotion it evokes. I shouldn't be. I should be used to this by now But I'm not. Rose Bud Lane it says. Someone lives at Rose Bud Lane. It stirs in me that raw, yet warm memory feeling. Mom called Clarissa, "Rose Bud". Dad called her Rag Weed. Mom; gone now to live with Jesus. Dad; companion with the memory thief. Rose Bud was the perfect name. She was rosy and sweet when she was born. I dressed her in everything pink. I treasured all ... View Post
