I sent you a pocket full of joy today. I tied it with a silk ribbon to a passing cloud. Along the way, the cloud bumped into a rainbow, the ribbon untied, and the joy slid onto the rainbow. It didn't stop until it reached your door.
Only now, the pocket full of joy was accompanied by the dreams that were riding on the cloud and the eternal hope that rubbed off of the rainbow, as the joy went sliding along. So, today you have waiting for you, a pocket full of joy, a cloud full of dreams, and a rainbow full of hope. All you have to do is open the door.
My dog, Mr. Jamison alerted; he went at once, to scratch at the door. When I opened it, my eyes grew large and my smile grew wide as my heart swelled to twice it's normal size; because you sent me a pocket full of joy, a cloud full of dreams and a rainbow full of hope.
As I leaned down to scoop up my bountiful blessings and prepared to use them, (For a blessing unused is a blessing wasted.) my heart filled with such gratefulness; it spilled out in every direction. With a snip and a snap I grabbed my butterfly net and with a "whoosh" here and a "whoosh" there, I collected every last bit of gratefulness; carefully pouring it into my favorite blue jar, down to the last drop. To this I add a pinch of joy, a dash of dreams, and a full measure of hope.
Jar in hand, Mr. Jamison and I stepped into the cool breeze of the day. Leading the way, I headed across the grassy meadow. As we went along, Mr. Jamison was distracted by a colorful band of butterflies; with one whistle he was back at my side and together, all the way to the tall timbered forest, we strolled. The sunbeams kissed the leaves of the trees and lit our way. The birds sang a happy tune and fluttered above our heads.
Suddenly we heard it, suddenly it was before us... the brook... it babbled and bubbled. Mr. Jamison found a warm rock where he plopped down, letting the warmth soaked up by the sun, warmed his little round freckled belly. A giggle rippled in my tummy and floated from my lips. I went to search, and soon found my little sailboat waiting. Untethering it from its miniature dock, I nestled my favorite blue jar upon its deck and pushed it into the babble of the brook.
The cool breeze of the day filled the tiny sails and it traveled on beyond the shore where I, with Mr. Jamison, remained, where we watched attentively, as the current worked in tandem with the wind. The tiny boat was carried around the bend and out of sight.
With Mr. Jamison at my heels, I turned from the shore and onto a nearby path that stopped at the peak of the mountain. Far below, the brook grew into a fast moving river that wrapped itself this way and that....in, out, and around the mountains edge; appearing like a shimmering ribbon.
The water widened, the current increased, and the reason became apparent... down stream... a waterfall! The tiny boat and it's cargo were heading at great speed for the falls. My heart didn't stop, but it did pause for an instant. The tiny boat reached the edge and launched into the air, doing a complete flip.
In the process, its special cargo tumbled free, breaking to pieces on the rocks below. To my astonishment, my tiny sail boat had landed on a snag. It hung precariously on a tree root at the side of the waterfall.
As for my favorite blue jar...it belonged to my grandmother, then my mother, then me. That jar, over time, contained tomatoes, peaches, pickles, and beets, among other mouth watering delights. Each time the jar was filled, a little love went in with it. I stood, barely taking a breath now and if you need to know the truth of it, ask Mr. Jamison...he was there; he watched right beside me.
The water that fell created a mist in a spray that was so powerful, it
shot upward. When my favorite blue jar slipped from its perch
and was broken on the rocks below, all that it contained, scattered. The water churned and before long, all of it floated upward in the watery mist. I watched, as the twinkling, colorful, whimsical, particles that were in the jar floated up, up, up. A cluster of small clouds drifted overhead and the particles were caught up in those clouds AND they are all headed your way!!!
So, the rain is coming; you can be confident.
When it arrives, do not pop open your umbrella or run for cover
because I sent you, by way of the deck of my tiny sailboat and the mist of the waterfall, and rain clouds to say: "Thank you" for the blessings. When it rains, you will receive pockets full of joy, dreams....so many that the clouds cannot contain them in a double rainbow of hope and three generations of unstoppable love in every drop.
When the rain is through, gratefulness unmatchable, will come riding on the wings of butterflies.
