The joys of friendship

Friendship is divine.

Divinely inspired — and given.

A gift.

That give-and-take. This sharing. That secret promising relief.

A blessing. Straight from — and to — the heart.

On these cold winter days, a promise of spring.


Gifts, light, energy, goodness

Friend Mary and her son just left. She spent two hours helping me weed the back flower bed while Cameron watched cartoons. Another friend bought me a gift certificate for a pedicure two days ago. And, another friend has offered to install my new garbage disposal. This, just three weeks after another friend built a gate for my fence.

From my point of view, the world is swathed in very bright light.

I like to picture Syria and Egypt swathed in just that light, as well.

Thought has an effect on matter.

It does.

It does.

And, you? Are you thinking bright light and energy? Is that what you’re putting into the world?

A friendship preserved in letters

I have a binder full, maybe two binders full, of letters written on yellow legal pad paper to me from my friend, Therese. One day soon, I will read the letters again, slowly, and then pack them up and send them to her.

Wanting to recapture the letter-writing days of our youth, Therese sent another letter two or three years ago. A gift! I sat on my couch, enjoying every word — Therese’s handwriting hadn’t changed. I hadn’t known, of course, because we’d been emailing by then for about 10 years or so — and I hadn’t saved the emails. The emails, in any case, hadn’t been full of details about Therese’s husband, children, jobs.

In her letters, Therese and her family dance, sing, get serious, cry, camp, ski, be, unfold to me.  This week, I plan to sit down with a pen and several pieces of yellow legal pad paper and write a letter to my friend, Therese.

Maybe she’ll write one back to me.

Turns out, Emily Post had much to say about writing letters in 1922.