A Child’s Christmas gift.

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My youngest daughter suffers dreadfully from insomnia. After a particularly difficult night last night, her five year old son realised mum had slept badly. Dragging herself out of bed she was confronted by her golden haired son in his reindeer onesie. Blue eyes gleaming he said, “ I found something nice for you.”

He proceeded to put on a Netflix video of a fireplace with Christmas music.

“Mummy, I want you to enjoy it,” he said.

This is all the more special as generally he’ll hog the TV (when dad’s not home) for his Wild Krats and Dino Train programs. I think we have a “Christmas angel”.

Our new associates.

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A mamma swan has decided it seems to rear her babies right alongside us. When reporting for our first CVSS day of the season (taking the disabled sailing) we were astounded to find a new nest complete with six eggs right beside the jetty.
The mother seems perfectly at ease with us and all our comings and goings as we help our special sailors into the boats, even leaving her eggs for a leisurely swim in our presence. She seems to know we’ll not hurt her little ones. We are honored by her trust.

The greatest gift.

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The greatest gift to be a mum,
(though often set with thorns.)
The gift of bringing tiny life
That later earth adorns.
Just like the acorn, watch them grow,
We know not what they’ll be
But all our love we freely pour
And later set them free.
We have to trust they’ll stay in touch,
They’ll take the time to love.
To care for us when we grow old
And tell us with a hug.

The best legacy.

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“You do your best to prepare your children for life, but as they become old enough to make their own choices, they must learn to meet life’s challenges and to take responsibility for themselves. They may sometimes stray from some of the things you taught them, but …

The love you plant in their hearts will stay there forever.

This is the greatest gift that you can give them, and it’s yours and theirs for eternity.”

(adapted – source unknown.)

to love and be loved

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mother love

The woman is at the heart of the home. Let us pray that we women realize the reason for our existence: to love and be loved and through this love become instruments of peace in the world.
—Mother Teresa

What a wonderful role to play!

I once heard  an interesting thought that the only way to really stop wars would be to put women into all positions of power hmmm…

For Mothers Everywhere, (a “story gift” – read it, it will make your day!)

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mountain rainbow

I woke to a lovely surprise a bunch of beautiful greetings from my daughter in China.I guess it’s mothers day there. It’s long gone here in the UK, but I wanted to share a very beautiful story written for me by my youngest when I was setting of to live in China. Though personal I think it applies to many mothers the world over and I’d like to share it for those mum who’s kids are not literately gifted but feel the same.

“There once was a little girl who was sprung into a strange and enchanted land known as Life. When she entered this magical realm the little girl was bright eyed and innocent. She took in all the sights around her with excitement and adulation Her favourites were the swirling clouds of colour, the billowing waterfalls, and the mountains crested with rainbows at their peaks.

So this little girl set off on her long journey through life. Once she set foot on the trail, she was accompanied by a beautiful woman who held her hand. They walked together down the trail, pausing to enjoy and explore the many fascinating sights and experiences along the way.

The little girl saw many things she did not understand, so the beautiful woman explained them to her. When the little girl wanted to pick a rose, the beautiful woman would always do it for her so she wouldn’t prick her tiny fingers. The woman would hold branches back so the little girl could walk free of their scratches, and she even built magical bridges to cross the rivers and lakes along the way.

As the little girl grew older, she started letting go of the beautiful woman’s hand for periods of time. She’d skip ahead along the path and sometimes sneak off when the woman wasn’t watching. When she did this, the little girl would fall into mud holes sometimes, or get lost in a big scary thicket, or even slip and tumble into a river.

Each time the beautiful woman was there to pull her out, to dry her off, kiss the cuts and bruises, and take the little girl by the hand again.

Time passed, and the trail got darker and colder in parts. The nights became longer, and the little girl grew older and wiser. She started to notice things she she hadn’t seen before about her enchanted land – things which made her sad and cry sometimes.

But always, the beautiful woman was there beside her, telling the little girl not to cry, and that Life was really a very lovely land to live in,and that the path would grow brighter too.

Then the little girl (who was really not so little anymore) started to notice that there were other girls and boys (and men and women) traveling the trail as well. The little girl sometimes wished she could just sit on the side of the road and laugh and do nothing all day like some of the others that she saw. It looked like fun.

But the beautiful woman always told the little girl that if she stopped moving for too long and stayed playing sandcastles forever, the wolves would get her. And sometimes the little girl listened, and sometimes she didn’t – and the wolves did get her.

But always, the beautiful woman was there to save the little girl – even from herself.

After many years of traveling the trail, the little girl grew up into a woman. She looked at Life very differently now than she had when she’d first arrived. The swirling clouds of colours she now watched carefully – because they could turn into tornadoes sometimes. But they were still pretty. And the waterfalls were amazing, but she knew that if she stood underneath them they would drown her. And the mountains were still beautiful, but they were difficult to climb – and their rainbows were only ever created when it rained.

But always, the beautiful woman was there to tell the girl that Life was still beautiful. Because the girl didn’t believe that sometimes.

One day the girl and the beautiful woman came to a golden patch of sky and the woman told the girl that the time had come for her to leave. They could not travel the same path anymore even though they would both still be living in Life.

The girl didn’t know what she would do without her beautiful lady beside her on the road. She looked at her and saw then that the woman had a shimmering set of wings – golden, beautiful, alive. The girl had never noticed them before, but they had always been there. Because you see, the beautiful woman was really an angel and the little girl had sometimes thought so, but now she knew so.

The beautiful woman told her girl that she had to keep traveling the trail, and that one day she would find her golden patch of sky to fly into – after she became someone else’s angel just like the beautiful woman had been the her angel.

Then the beautiful woman flew up into the clouds to a new trail in the sky, and the girl kept on walking down the trail. She knew she would get lost sometimes, and it would still rain and be cold and lonely some days, but her beautiful lady had taught her lots about Life, and she knew she would be OK.

31 day challenge Day 13 (hmm seem to have mixed up my days somewhere)

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What is your earliest memory?

(Chuckle!!) Licking mustard off my coat collar.

Let me explain. As a very small child I used to chew on my coat collar (don’t ask me why???). In those post war days clothes needed to last a long time so in desperation my mum had smeared English mustard ( unlike the French or American varieties extremely hot) on my collar edge. Being the “sweet angel” that I was (sarcastic voice) I determined to suck the mustard off and pretend to like it so I’d “win”. I did win but the burning sensation stayed in my memory lol!

Just for fun I’ll tell you one of my next earliest memories – jumping out of a 2nd story window to prove to the neighbor’s boy I wasn’t chicken! No wonder my mum went grey early LOL!

(I think my guardian angel must have been pretty overworked too – amazingly I got away without even a scraped knee.)