To Love and Be Loved

 Here is a story from earlier this year. Something that Jordyn had said to me out of innocence that gave me pause. 

She saw something in me that I could not see. 

A part of my soul, the eyes are the windows, or so I've been told. 

Inner beauty, nothing makes a better gift. 

Why do you suppose people give flowers? 

To give our spirits a lift. 

 So as we embark on our journeys and start a new year 

I send you every blessing and a heart with no fear.

 Love and Be Loved "2014"

It was a good year, It was a sad year.
It was a year full of gripes, and a year full of strife.
I've traveled, I've seen, I've tried.
I've fought, I've failed, I've cried.
It Was a year full of growth as I learned how to share. ..
My feelings, my time, the good and the bad, 

My life with others even when I felt sad. 

But I learned from this walk that some simply can't conceive, 

That it is much more valuable to give than it is to receive.
Love & be loved "2014"

 ~jenny

You Don't Bring Me Tomatoes Anymore

Mr. Russ Gibb this is for you.

I recall a story from my youth about one of my neighbors. A divorcee who's only son had grown up and moved away. Her name was Helen. 

You see, before my Mother had died she grew a garden with an array of fruits, flowers, and vegetables. And in our harvest, I fondly reminisce visiting each neighbor and sharing the bounty for we always had too much and too many.

Years had gone by and one day as I had passed the old neighbor's house I had caught her peering at me from out of the corner of my eye with a somber sorrowful gaze that had pierced my innermost being. I could not bear to turn away. I promptly approached her and said "What seems to be the matter?” (I'm not really sure I talked so properly at such a tender age, but let's go with it.) "What seems to be the matter?" I asked. And with no hesitation she replied, "You don't bring me tomatoes anymore! Your Mother used to bring me tomatoes!" And without really knowing what to say, I woefully walked away. 

There was nothing that I could do. I did not have any tomatoes to give; because, you see, when my Mother had died the garden had died along with her. And I often had wondered was it truly the tomatoes that Helen had desired, or was it the company, the interaction, the love?

So I think of Helen and many others like her today and the words that she had said to me...

"You don’t bring me tomatoes anymore."

You Don't Bring Me Flowers by Liberace with Geri's Game