Recently, my daughter came across an old cook book that belonged to my mother. Some of you may know that my mother graduated into heaven a few years back. Our family felt the void of her home going and it was with pleasure that I received the phone call from my daughter saying that Mom had left a little note in the cook book. I'd like to share that note with you.
"Memories of youth
by Freeda Dawson
Each year drops a thin veil over the preceding year and as you get farther away from the years of youth the accumulation of veils becomes a thickness substantial enough to conceal and hide. Only in certain moments when some memory stirs will that thickness slit through with a look at youth and then the slit in the veil closes again. Veils, some bright, some sombre, fall together and lose all particular colour, merging into a gentle grey."
I have often wondered where I received my love of writing. And I have dearly missed the connection with my mother. In one fell swoop, my daughter gave me two gifts. I now know where my use of the pen springs from and that connection, through my writing, is re-established. We truly are an extension of our ancestors. My only regret is that my mother didn't write more of her musings. Many blessings as you pass on parts of yourselves to your children, your extended families or your readers.
Looking for a place to feel inspired and challenged? Like to share a smile or a laugh? Interested in becoming more familiar with Canadian writers who have a Christian worldview? We are writers who live in different parts of Canada, see life from a variety of perspectives, and write in a number of genres. We share the goal of wanting to entertain and inspire you to be all you can be with God's help.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Popular Posts
-
Write Canada is more than a professional networking conference. It’s a safe place where beginning and intermediate writers can learn ...
-
I've been writing professionally for most of my adult life. My first novel, THE JOSIAH FILES was published twenty years ago by Thom...
-
Our coordinator suggested that in our April posts on this blog site we might “write a post about who we are and what we write. . . . [and w...
-
No one has to tell writers that they're up against some pretty big obstacles these days. The latest Tsunami to hit the writing/publishi...
-
A young man and his obviously pregnant wife arrived at Toronto’s Pearson Airport. Between them they toted hand-baggage and lugged a couple ...
-
A phrase I do not remember hearing frequently, has surpized me in the last three days, at least twice, in totally unrelated con...
-
by Linda Hall If you haven't seen the “Which Downton Abbey Character Are You?” quiz, you soon will. It’s all over Facebook. Being a...
-
In our new reality of feedback on newspaper articles and comments on blogs, we all welcome interaction — or do we? I have, in the last while...
-
Monday began like any other day. My husband and I started out at slightly different times. I had a meeting to attend over the noon hour...
-
When I was in the seventh grade, our class was required to read a book called Jean Val Jean. As I got int...
1 comment:
Donna,
A sweet discovery and a very precious item you to have in this piece of writing heritage from your mother.
Thank you for sharing it.
Peter.
Post a Comment