Miracles are a retelling in small letters
of the very same story which is written across the whole world
in letters too large for some of us to see.
~ C.S. Lewis
Gifts that make my life worth living,
gifts that make my moments holy.
Not gifts that I wish for,
but gifts that I have received.
Gifts that bring me back
into Joy and Gratitude.
a friend’s anointing with oil
the beautiful prayers of her husband and son
and her healing!
a new cabinet that transformed an unsightly heap of stuff into a neatly organized linen closet
planting daffodils on a hillside
watching Amy explore the world
painting the shabby garden shed a fresh bright red
news of lots more babies and pregnancies
making recipe scrapbook pages for a new bride
standing in the middle of enormous lilacs of three different colors…just inhaling…
my little lilac bush that bloomed for the first time this year!
the new lights my husband installed on our back deck
brilliant red tulips marching along a picket fence like soldiers in a perfect row
soaking up the warm sunshine on the church lawn
a wonderful soothing backrub from my husband
watching fox kits/cubs/pups playing in the late afternoon sunshine
I wish I had wonderful photos to share from that last item. Yesterday my daughter and I went over to the neighboring abandoned house to gather lilacs from the enormous hedge there, completely forgetting about the little foxes, so we didn’t take a camera. The little guys were out playing, jumping, wrestling, pouncing on each other–exactly like kittens, and so very cute. We watched them for a long time and they seemed mostly unafraid of us, though they stopped and watched every time we moved. We were within 15 feet of them, even talking aloud, and it didn’t seem to worry them. When we came back later armed with cameras, they were settling down for the evening between a tree and the garage and were no longer offering photo ops. It figures. I took a few shots, but you can barely see them in the photos.
And what do you call baby foxes anyway? Any of the three terms (kits, cubs, pups) seem to be used, and I’m never sure which to say. My daughter, of course, wants to tame one. Ri-ight. We haven’t ever seen any sign of a mother fox (vixen, right?) but there is a rotting deer head laying in front of the garage, so I’m guessing she’s around occasionally to feed them.