Linda Raha's Writing Corner
The green leaves of summer are gone; all that greenery, simply vanished overnight. Or is it that just the way it seems, when November dawns and a new chapter begins? We mark the pages with autumnal gold and write all sorts of notes in the margins. There are so many things we want to remember
It is a moment of grace to see that little hand reach up and grasp my own. It is a moment of grace to see an aged one who stoops so low lifted up by another. The stars collide in the universe and the still, dark night embraces the light. Helping hands reach out stars,
Dare we dream in September beneath the bluest skies of better days to come? The leaves give way to the most enchanting hues that mirror the sun above. We see our own reflection, captured in those leaves of autumnal gold. We know the finery belongs to God, the soft September wind, a calling. The light
If every life were written in a storybook, would each and every page be highlighted with cheerful moments and a problem - free existence? When you look at the cover of a storybook, can you tell all that much about the contents of the book? The truth is that all of our days are written
I like the Caribbean blues. That mix of salt and sea is such good company. There is a blur of blue and green beneath a canopy of fluffy clouds. The clouds float, in a sea all their own. The breeze is brisk a reminder that time stands still for no one. It is best to
Beneath the glittering sun, the water sparkles diamonds of polished perfection. Upon the pond, green leaves float and dance castaways from their tree-top houses. These summertime leaves shimmer, and then fade like our summertime days. Come autumn, there is only a golden mirage a remembrance of what was. The pond is too deep to touch
A new day dawns, a gift of grace, a place to start again. The garden of life waits... We scatter seeds of hope as best we can; we know that God will bless the seeds. The field of life sometimes seems barren; sometimes, the field is drenched with heavy rain. We go forward into the
There are few sounds I love more than to hear the birds singing outside my window. It always beckons me to come outdoors, to see the world anew. It lifts my spirits on even the darkest and dreariest days. There is music when the birds sing! It is music enough to fill the world with
The seasons of life come and go, but there are moments when everything comes full circle. This past week, my little granddaughters and their parents spent the week at our house. One morning, I took my youngest granddaughter over to my mother's house to plant marigolds. My mother passed away in January, and here it
The rain came today cold and wet drenching the azaleas. Yesterday the sun shone brilliantly on Easter. The butterflies and the bees hovered amidst the flowers for hours on end. It is a quiet day a day for sowing seeds deep within our hearts. We begin again washed clean like the rain, that cleanses the