My mother gave me that book years ago and I adored it yet have no clue where it ended up. The story is about a water bearer with a pot on each end of the stick to carry it in. Day after day the person went to the water source to fill only to find only one pot full when he returned home. He was bewildered about this and it bothered him that in spite of his hard work the precious water was being wasted. After many trips, he noticed that flowers were blooming on one side of his path but the other side was barren. It was then that he realized that the pot was cracked and watering the soil on his path to produce beauty. Sometimes I feel just like him. I'm at that age where I need a keeper on some days and on others I'm on fire for the world. As I grow older I realize the more valuable friends are. I have so many who have surrounded me through the years with love and strength. My tribe, so to speak. We don't always stay in touch but the bond is there.
I have one last perennial to move down here which is kind of ironic because after my parents died I dug it up and moved it to the old house. It needs to be back home under Daddy's dogwood. A beautiful dark pink peony, it stood out in my yard full of white ones that Mrs. Council planted long ago. I drive up there occasionally just to see what's in bloom because I added a lot to her flower spots in my 30 plus years there. It's where I raised my daughter and she adored being in the country.
I would like to ask you to pray for my friend Kim if you are that sort. If not, send her some good vibes and manifest good health. She's one special lady. Keepin' the faith with you girl ^j^
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