Friday. Awoke to a light snow coming down outside my bedroom window. I remembered how happy the children in my fourth grade class became my first year in Texas in 1965 when they saw snow! Running to the windows, jumping on the counters, they pressed their faces to the panes of glass, shrieking with joy! A transplant from Michigan, I stared at them in wonder. It was just snow! Forty-six years later, I bluster with the same happiness every time it snows in New York!
Saturday. My daughter was in a West African dance performance Saturday evening in Boston, so I traveled by bus to see her. She and the rest of the dancers, along with the teacher, Mama Fatou, just about killed themselves in extreme African dance. We, the audience, watched and applauded, our spirits connecting, realizing we all truly are ONE.
Sunday. Driving home from Boston to New York, we were gliding into the sunset. The clementine orange colors blending with the winter blue sky bled my heart free of any pain. I had to take it in and heal. It was mandatory.
Monday's post coming tonight!
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