A Lovely Door in Cortona, Umbria, Italy

Thank you Scooj for the image

His Natural Adventures and Thursday’s Doors are magnificent; do visit him at

Short Story

Between Friends

It happened recently that a friend became sad in acknowledging a sense of detachment between us.  I shared with her ‘that sadness is part of detachment for those whom we love the most but must somehow let go for a time.’

I know this lesson very well; God uses it all for a greater good not yet ready to be revealed.  I urged my friend to dwell on Joy instead.  Nothing is lost between us – rather just more room to grow in the now and mused that when we meet in Heaven one day, we’ll chuckle all about it with Jesus saying, “I told you so!”

See how a beautiful Italian door can exude a story from one’s heart.

QUOTE from Alexander Graham Bell

“When one door closes, another opens.”

Saint Margaret of Cortona, Pray for us!


Rooster Short Story

As soon as I discovered this colorful rooster postcard, it revived one of my mother’s ‘war’ stories.

During the last world war everything was rationed but luckily my grandmother owned a farm in the countryside.  The tenants sent word that some eggs, butter and a chicken could be had.  So Denyse rode her bicycle up the hillside to collect the precious provisions.  On her return home Mother barely made the curfew when a German soldier stopped her – what trepidation her heart must have felt.  Then explained she felt she had no choice but to ‘turn on the charm’ so he would let her go – he did – without even noticing the satchel behind her –  thank God! Or I wouldn’t be writing this story.  Denyse pedaled so fast to the finish line while noticing my grandmother waiting for her with the gate wide open.

Mother said the worst part of this story was having to ring the chicken’s head; she couldn’t do it and Mame Jeanne had no choice – they both were very hungry but most of all very grateful.


Vintage French Enamel Stove

Remembering my Grandmother Mame’ Jeanne

August 18, 1888 – July 9, 1973

Mame’ Jeanne was the only grandparent I knew.  She welcomed me into the world with great kindness and love, teaching me everything I now cherish, most especially Faith.

A strong yet humble woman with persevering faith, Jeanne Davin became widowed early in life losing her husband, son and raising three daughters while operating the family butcher shop.  Then came the German occupation, life became dangerous – Thank God, my family survived.

The stove above resembles the one that kept us warm in winter.  Her favorite room was the kitchen where she would concoct superb French meals, teaching me how to cook and showing me how to iron perfectly on the butcher block table…so thankful she infused the love of being woman.  Besides that and more, she was an impeccable seamstress and cut her own patterns for customers and loved to surprise me in donning the prettiest original dresses growing up.

As if yesterday, these magical moments spent together still resound fresh in my heart…especially when she took me to Lourdes and when we saw on TV man walking on the moon.

iron gate

This is the iron gate through which I last saw my Mame’ Jeanne so many years ago.  Through the gate she placed in my hand her lifelong amethyst rosary from Lourdes.  Today, holding it, praying with it, reaffirms all these affectionate memories of my dear French grandmother.

PS: I once had a beautiful dream with her.  My mother had just passed away and I was yearning for my family.  I was searching for them holding on a long scroll, when my grandmother appeared and said to me:  “write now, when you finish writing all your stories, I will be there waiting for you.”





Short Story

I springboard to loving remembrances of my grandmother caring for her colorful parakeets.  I would run to her kitchen where the cage was perched next to the window  looking out the promenade lined by huge Plane trees.  The indigo, yellow and chartreuse birds would chirp my arrival and I felt special to feed them because they were her babies.

One summer I found the birdcage missing.  She anticipated my fear, took my hand and led me to the formal dining room – no cage there either.  Then out of a drawer from the china hutch, she pulled out a biscuit canister and unveiled each of her preserved birds wrapped in red velour pouches.  Her babies were still bright beautiful but lifeless.  Her generous eyes met mine, she placed one into my hands and softly said, “one day we must die too.”  Together we returned the birds into the canister and off we went to the marketplace to buy food for our supper.

This is one of many important lessons my dear Mame Jeanne taught me.  To this day, I hold dear numerous experiences of birds approaching me.

…honoring her holy transition 45 years ago…


True Colors by Ecoseasons

Art and Writers Hearken Within

What hearkens me to others and binds us to a beautiful expression of life is, simply put, combining art with writing.

Whenever a purposeful concept arises, my first goal is to capture some art form that will reflect thoughts to engage a meaningful dialogue with readers.

It’s like a secret love affair between artists and writers.

The artist creates a special message in blending ideas on a palette which aspires me to marry words.  Then comes the magic – my eyes and heart, drawn to beauty and truth, can begin to express to any audience a beckoning aspect of life.

That’s my passion for writing, thanks to viewers, and thanks be to God.

art of writing


Dreamlike Dimensions by Sabrina Garrasi

A Short Story

Becoming Unleashed

‘Are you coming to hurt me?  as I approach a manly figure.  O, just a bad dream to shrug off.

Morning unfolds as I prepare to attend a book study on “Becoming Unleashed – How to receive everything the Holy Spirit wants to give me” by author Sonja Corbitt.

As Sonja reveals the theme of her book – Jesus Christ acquiescing to His crucifixion for the redemption of all sin, the dream resurfaces.  Who is trying to hurt me?  How is Jesus going to unleash the Holy Spirit upon me now?  Focusing on what is being said, I close my eyes and acknowledge Christ’s act of redemption for me – but I know that  already – then unexpectedly a burning unction of peace covers me, eyes flooded with tears.

I share this story because it impresses a universal message:  a whisper saying – Stop condemning yourself .  Thankfully, this strange dream foreshadows my becoming unleashed…now I relish the freedom it has given me.

If anyone feels an urge to be unleashed, for whatever, I humbly offer this suggestion.  Just ask Jesus to set you free, the Holy Spirit will do the rest, and you will, no doubt, experience a greater intimacy with God that will carry you through all eternity, amen.

My heart sings to share this Grace moment with you…thank you,

your scribe for love, truth and peace


My First Writing

My son, Christopher occasionally sends me postcards from Vashon, an island off Seattle, Washington.  Each postcard reflects a moment of where his life is taking him, especially by the words he writes on the postcards.  I cherish them all because it is good to know where and how he is trekking.  There, his life seems stable, he’s blooming according to his passions and talents.  I believe he has found some degree of happiness there and that notion is a great comfort to me.

The rest of this story depends on him.  I hope one day to complete this…my first short story.





…remarkable, how this turned out to be a Haibun followed by a Haiku…