A Gift Gathered, Given, Good


This week would have been my Mammaw’s 101st birthday.  I thought of her often everyday this week.  One of the fondest memories I have of her (and my Pappaw) was working in the garden.  Of course I dreaded working under the hot sun and not running around free but I did find slight pleasure in picking the corn off the stalks in the large corn field.  I remember Mammaw scurrying out to her little garden to pick green beans for  dinner (that would be lunch for those of us raised in the south) or sending me out to see if there were in bright red tomatoes ready for picking.


I gave my heart to the most sincere and amazing man almost 17 years ago.  I never want to take it back!


I have been spending a major amount of my time the past few years fussing about working.  I am slowly accepting all the good that comes with my job.  My job is good.  My job is a gift.  My job is a very good gift.


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