Every segment of life holds its own particular triumphs & tribulations.
Progress hard won, distance gained & ground claimed is sometimes lost.
The warp and weave of time, writing yet another page of
who we were, who we are, who we will become....
Progress hard won, distance gained & ground claimed is sometimes lost.
The warp and weave of time, writing yet another page of
who we were, who we are, who we will become....
One of joys I revel in now, here at this point in my journey
are what I've come to refer to as
are what I've come to refer to as
handkerchiefs of happiness
Small tangible or visual or heartfelt treasures
that tuck safely in a pocket or picture or corner of
the heart....
the heart....
When I was small, my grandmother ever and always carried
a perfectly folded, painstakingly ironed handkerchief.
Each was beautiful in its own way, made of
Each was beautiful in its own way, made of
beautiful floral fabric or edged in detailed delicate lace.
They were light as air, translucent as a cloud, cheerful as sunshine
and the epitomy of gentle womanhood.
and the epitomy of gentle womanhood.
Even when she and I would head to the fields to weed or
pick peas or strawberries she would have a 'hanky'
tucked beneath her dress belt or in her pocket.
pick peas or strawberries she would have a 'hanky'
tucked beneath her dress belt or in her pocket.
Oft times I'd discover a flower or rock or clover - a treasure
I was anxious to carry back to the farmhouse
(even as a wee one I was a saver! lol)
I was anxious to carry back to the farmhouse
(even as a wee one I was a saver! lol)
But with picking or weeding to be done in the fields
it was easy to misplace and lose small treasures.
it was easy to misplace and lose small treasures.
So early on grandma would wrap my 'treasure' in her
beautiful handkerchief, to safe-keep it till our work was complete.
beautiful handkerchief, to safe-keep it till our work was complete.
As I grew older, I'd do the wrapping but the hanky was
always hers. Crisp, fresh, smelling of line-dried-breeze.
always hers. Crisp, fresh, smelling of line-dried-breeze.
Ironed. Always ironed.
Perfectly folded and beautiful.
Perfect. Beautiful. Like the days in the fields, the chatter, the memories.
Nothing yet everything being woven into my soul
amid peas and berries,weeds, treasures and lace.
amid peas and berries,weeds, treasures and lace.
Thru my life, my Mum continued the teaching, the lesson
the importance of finding joy in small ways, places, moments.
the importance of finding joy in small ways, places, moments.
To this day still, a tiny treasure found on a walk, a moment of time
frozen in a digital picture, the emergence of a flower ~ any small
joy becomes a handkerchief happiness to me.
frozen in a digital picture, the emergence of a flower ~ any small
joy becomes a handkerchief happiness to me.
The added layer of joy now is that I appreciate fully, in a way
no child can, the depth of contentment each small happiness
no child can, the depth of contentment each small happiness
brings...
Below are some imges
of my most recent 'handkerchiefs of happiness'
&
I'd love to see some of yours
(if you'd care to share)
In fact, how about a
'handkerchiefs of happiness bloghop'?!?
(if you'd care to share)
In fact, how about a
'handkerchiefs of happiness bloghop'?!?
PS the sunflowers are a bit of Spring baking I did, as I
love to bake (cooking not so much, lol) I was pleased
with the outcome, loving the way they look!
(and they were quite yummy too) :-)
love to bake (cooking not so much, lol) I was pleased
with the outcome, loving the way they look!
(and they were quite yummy too) :-)
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