Saturday, March 09, 2013


Damp air.  Sky the color of the Zen nuns robes, trees still bare for the most part, appearing as if their utmost tips were dipped in spring time green.  Grass covered in plum blossom petals, the grandchildren asking, "are these big snow flakes Grammie ?"  The soil, more muddy than dry, perfect for playing in, and perfect for making a child's clothes become one with the earth.
Mud boots, wind breaker jackets, buckets and shovels.  Sticks and rocks, rivers to make and gardens to create with duck feathers and old leaves.   Today I realized exactly why I am here on this earth at this very foster childhood delight in these children, whose faces appear as the heart of a lotus flower to me.  As they ate their lunch on the porch, hands still dirty,  dirt in their hair, and clothes that made me HOPE, my laundry soap is as good as it claims, we burned incense and listened to a bell chant.  Mei-Ling asked me, "Grammie, what is the cosmos ?"   It startled me a bit that she asked such a deep question at the tender age of nearly 6.   She wanted a serious answer, something deeper than just a scientific answer since she followed it up with questions about God. It felt as if  I was born, for just this moment in time. The perfection of it all.   A little boy of three, binoculars around his neck, telling me, "There is a downy woodpecker Grammie, like the one in my book".  The cries of a hawk over head, stole their attention away from their food.  It did me too.  Soaring, free, like these small ones in my yard.  Creating drums from old buckets.  Making gnome homes with bark and hollowed out spots by the garden where the soil is loose and rich in color.  
I sipped my tea, thanked God for the time to enjoy this moment.  Freedom mixed with mindfulness is a precious moment.

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