A Time to Remember the Beautiful Things

A sweet song from my childhood...

Rain falls
soft rain at my window
Every butterfly has hurried away
All the honeybees have called it a day
And the columbine are bending their heads in the rain.

Rain falls
soft rain making puddles
for the children's feet
the puddles are sweet
And the skater-bug fleet finds small pools a treat
And the columbine are bending their heads in the rain.


While the rain is falling there's a quietness about the world;
While the thunder is calling there's a quiet hush about the world
A time to remember the beautiful things,
To look for tomorrow and your fondest dreams...

 

Rain falls
soft rain through the tree boughs
Bringing ev'ning birds a quick friendly bath
washing afternoon dust from my wide garden path
And the columbine are bending their heads in the rain.

Rain  falls 

soft rain at my window

I will go outside where sleepy rain blows

Feel the wet on my face, feel the wet on my clothes

And like the columbine

I want to bow my head in the rain.

Today I'm remembering the beautiful things...

At My Mother's Knee

A Rose For My Dear Mother...
April 1928 ~ July 2011

                  Mother loved her flower gardens... 

4 o’clock’s and petunias, 
lilies of the valley and iris, 
bridal veil and lilac bushes, 
snapdragons and delphiniums 
and of course, her beloved roses. 

I don’t think there is a flower on this earth that wasn’t my Mother’s favorite. 
The vegetable garden was Dad’s, but the flowers, oh, the flowers… they were my Mother’s.

♥   ♥   ♥

My earliest memories of Mother are in the garden. I remember as a  small child waking up sleepy eyed and wandering the house looking for her.  I walked from room to room... not finding her... and then, just before my anxiety could erupt into tears, I looked through the window to see her in the flower gardens. Tapping on the window, she looked up to see me and with a beautiful smile, came to open the door and lead me out to the flower gardens. How glorious it was in the gardens, and how I loved being with my Mother. I'm sure it wasn't long before I was purposefully waking up early... just to join her and to be amidst those beautiful flowers. I truly learned to garden at my mother's knee.

Sunrise In My Gardens

At some point in my Mother's lifetime she must have discovered 
the magic of morning in the garden... 

surely the most beautiful time of the day 
when all the world is hushed 

except for the song of the birds and the buzzing of the bees.  

In our family, we call it the magic hour. 

Indescribable as to why – you just have to experience it for yourself.

Sun about to Crest over My Mountain

 My heart is now heavy at her passing and yet I know she lives, 

with all my soul I know she lives.

Our physical death isn’t the end, Our physical death isn't the end,

but rather is a step forward in Heavenly Father’s plan 

and a time of indescribable joy for the person making the transition.

What comfort this knowledge brings to me. 

Our life does not begin at birth and it doesn't end at death.

Our life on earth is only a portion of God's eternal plan for his children.

Of this I know.

As my thoughts now wander from room to room within my memories

I do not find my sweet mother...

but I know that she is not far away.

I am so thankful for the gospel of Jesus Christ in my life 

and the sweet peace it brings to me. 

(To understand more, click on the blue links above.)