Froggy’s Springtime

 

Froggy loves springtime when his pond becomes alive with darting fish and lily pads and forest sounds that make him glad.  

Froggy pushes his little nose into the sweet air smelling the flowers and grass.  

Oh, how the springs soft rain drum and tap on the newly growing leaves.  

The night is still beneath the silver full moon. Froggy hears the occasional ribbit, croak of his neighbors.  

The warm sun soaks Froggy’s speckled skin. He leaps and splashes and dives into the pond.  

Froggy says, “Spring is the season for me” as he disappears into the crystal-clear water with dragonflies and moths as the Froggy king.  

Georgia

Diary of a Crocus

FEBRUARY 21st

Oh MY, the earth is packed in around me, cold and confining and I feel like a murderer shackled by hand and foot in a confined cell enrobed in complete darkness.

March 1st

I am growing stronger now and the earth is warming now, and I have the strength to push the earth out of my way and free myself from this encumbrance.

March 21st

It is done, I have pushed the earth out of my way and the warming sunshine feels wonderful on my petals and stem! But what is this, those confounded Daffodils have beat me to the surface again! I had hoped that I could outgrow them this year, but they have beaten me again! However, under closer inspection I can see that their stems are drooping with withering petals, and their leaves are dragging on the ground, a sure sign of frostbite! With any luck they won’t survive the night! Thank You MOTHER EARTH! Let’s get this Spring going!

Jim

Praying in the Spring

 

One sure way I know its spring is my Prayer plant starts sending up new shoots through the dirt in its pot. Usually, the Prayer plant’s spring is always a couple of weeks earlier than the official date of spring.

I get excited when I see the new shoots and then the leaves opening and filling the pot. The leaves are green and oval shaped with dark purple lines showing through the middle. The dark purple lines remind me of zebra stripes. The dark lines quickly turn to a shade of light green.

While I am enjoying my Prayer plant, I calculate how many years I have this announcer of spring. This season, I have the plant forty-one years! I know its age because my son, Anthony, just celebrated his forty-first birthday and the Prayer plant was given to him as a gift when he was born. Usually, Prayer plants only live up to ten years. It’s good to have a green thumb!

As spring moves along, the plant gets very full. It’s at this time that I like to look at the plant in the evening. This is when all the leaves face upwards, looking like hands in prayer, hence, the name Prayer plant. By morning, the leaves move downwards again until evening.

Writing about this indicator of spring got me curious as to why the leaves look like they’re praying every night. This is what I found out. The natural movement of the leaves up and down is called nyctinasty. This up and down motion of the leaves helps the Prayer plant conserve energy and water during the night. Well, for forty-one years, I did not know this.

There had been short periods of time when the plant looked a little ill. That’s when I say to myself, “If this Prayer plant ever dies, I will truly grieve. Then I think to myself, I will pray like the Prayer plant prays, that it will live forever.

Ellen

Prayer for a Newborn

 

HELLO LITTLE BABY SLEEP WELL TODAY FOR YOU HAVE HAD A TUMULTUOUS DAY ALTHOUGH YOU WILL NOT REMEMBER IT FOR LONG,

YOUR EYES ARE OPENING EVER SO SLIGHTLY AS YOU SMILE AND SLIP INTO A DEEP SLEEP, WARM AND COMFORTABLE, FAR FROM THE TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS OF A WORLD THAT YOU KNOW NOTHING OF YET,

MY PRAYER FOR YOU TODAY IS FOR PEACE AND HAPPINESS AS YOU TRAVEL THROUGH THIS WORLD,

AND THAT YOU DO NOT EXPERIENCE PREJUDICE OR PHYSICAL PAIN,

THAT YOU BE JUDGED ON YOUR MERITS AND NOT YOUR APPEARANCE,

AND THAT YOU RECEIVE AN EXCELLENT EDUCATION FROM PARENTS AND TEACHERS THAT WILL PRESENT IT WITH SELFLESSNESS AND PATIENCE

AND MAKE YOU AWARE OF OPPORTUNITIES TO APPLY THAT EDUCATION IN A PRODUCTIVE AND FULFILLING MANNER,

THAT YOU POSSESS THE INATE INTUITION AND EVENTUALLY WISDOM NOT TO SQUANDER OR WASTE YOUR OPPORTUNITIES OR EDUCATION,

AND THAT YOU ARE CHERISHED AND LOVED ALL OF YOUR DAYS,

FINALLY, TO DIE AT THE APPROPRIATE TIME, HAVING BECOME ALL THAT YOU WISHED TO BECOME,

AND EXPERIENCED ALL THAT YOU WISHED TO EXPERIENCE,

AND COMPLETED ALL OF THE TASKS THAT YOU WISHED TO COMPLETE,

AND ONLY THEN WHEN YOU HAVE RUN THE RACE THAT YOU WISHED TO RUN TO DIE CHERISHED AND LOVED, SURROUNDED BY FRIENDS AND FAMILY.

JIM-March 25’

A Letter to the Children of the Next Generation

 

Dear Children of the Future,

As you journey through life, stay curious. Ask questions, explore, and seek to understand the world around you—knowledge will always be your best friend.

Be resilient. Setbacks happen, and challenges come to everyone, but they do not define you. Get up, learn, and try again.

Find joy in the simple things—nature, creativity, the love of those around you, and tiny moments of happiness.

Be true and honest with yourself. Do the right thing, have courage, and embrace your authentic self. Being the real you is your greatest strength.

Practice gratitude. When you appreciate all that happens, you will find peace and contentment.

Choose your people wisely. Surround yourself with those who uplift, support, and inspire you—friends who bring positivity and encouragement.

Health is wealth. Take care of your mind, body, and spirit. Nurture your well-being, eat nourishing food, and keep your mind clear.

Be generous. Give your time, love, and encouragement freely—kindness is a strength.

Have the courage to stand up for justice and speak with compassion.

Believe in yourself and your abilities. Take action, be determined, and dream big.

Think for yourself. Be independent, form your own opinions, and trust your inner wisdom—your thoughts are powerful tools.

Keep your own counsel. Stay true to your values, even when others disagree.

Don’t be discouraged by outside events. Life will present challenges beyond your control, but focus on what you can change and move forward with hope.

Remember, you are part of a world filled with possibilities. Keep your heart open.

I wish you love, success, and a life fulfilled.

Georgia

Peaceful Heart

 

The sun glistened across Manhasset Bay reflecting back towards the sky.
Several boats were peacefully rocking in the distance; creating a low kettle like
whistling.
The kayakers were warming up for the yearly championship race on the Southern side of the bay.
The strong crack of a wooden baseball bat in the distance heighten her senses.
Another home run for the second place high school team. And another wooden bat for the camp fire and s'mores party this evening.
The band shell was empty.
The decorative red and white streamers flying joyously in the wind. They were remains of last night’s Barber Shop Quartet performance and glorious memories.
The strong baritone singer was home sleeping after awakening every human organ Friday evening.
The early Saturday morning air had a crisp ocean scent with undertones of Basil and Mint.
She walked across the tough crab grass as the morning dew caressed her ankles. 
She whistled a whute woo and called out “Pee ta, Pee ta, Peeee A.”
He was the apex of this gathering.
“Which fruits and vegetables are singing for me today?” she asked.
A few people glanced up to see if they knew the face attached to this Queens voice;
while holding on to the vegetables at hand. Many of them had relocated from Queens or had family residing there.
They smiled and continued with their table farming.
Peter was there to greet her at the first table of the Farmers Market.
“How have you been ?
Long time since I’ve seen you.
You were a weekly.
Not anymore. You're missed.” He leaned closer and whispered “I hope your singing is still limited to the shower. ”
“Thanks Peter, great be back at the Farmers Market. Another beautiful day in Port Washington” she said with a smile.
She was from Queens and Port Washington was her get away vacation for a day escape destination.
Peter had a farm out east; which offered its own bounty of beauty.
“And I have expanded my vocal performances to my car and all rooms throughout the house.
No broken windows and the crystal is still intact. Thanks for the concern.”
They shared a hearty laugh.
He flashed his million dollar smile,
framed with dimples he called his diamonds. Strong dimples are a reflection of a life full of fun and sun.
Peter broke out in song . . .
“Many more to foll low. A strong bountiful summer harvest is on the way A A A
it makes me happy, very, very happy. Maybe a new boooat oat oat.”
Peter performed on Broadway in several plays many years ago. 
He was a triple threat. NYC and Broadway made him realize the wealth of the Long Island earth and nature. Peter’s aura was a huge glistening rock filled with sunshine.
Peter had a full head of black wavy 
hair and sparkling green eyes that opened your heart.
She always felt there was something mystical and intuitive about the gift of green eyes. They had a gripping magnetized force on your soul. 
“Such a beautiful voice, a gift to the world. I am looking forward to your summer concert at Eisenhower Park.
Everyone on Long Island melts and freezes from your first note to your last.”
“Thanks. I enjoy singing, the people and the laughter. Entertaining is in my blood.”
In a second the drama of theatrical acting appeared from this handsome man -
“And yes my gift to the world and to my heart and soul.
My audiences morph from
caterpillars to beautiful butterflies.
Elevating higher and higher and higher until the curtain drops and they fly out to
42nd Street and a waiting Uber.”
Ciao Ciao
Buona Notte 
Laughter exploded from him and the joyous crowd laughed and clapped.
Peter always cultivated happiness. 
“On that note ciao, ciao, see you next week.
My welcoming whistle may be replaced with a verse or two.”
“Please come back next week with the whistle, I'll sing.” said Peter
“Here, take this chocolate basil; the tomatoes are very lonely without it.”
She whistled and smiled and was on her way. A wonderful start to her Saturday morning.
Her heart was singing so sweetly.

Laura M

A Love Letter to Momma

 

Dear Momma, I owe you. I owe you appreciation, admiration and devotion. It’s taken me into my old age to finally begin writing in praise of you. There were always reasons to praise you, but I needed to put it into the written words. I needed to honor you in my stories.

 

Growing up in the South Bronx, we were not very poor, nor would I say we were rich either. I always knew we needed to be thrifty, to make our purchases with serious care. We always bought what we needed, not what we wanted. I recognized money could not be spent frivolously so it made sense when you took me window shopping on the Sabbath. Of course we couldn’t carry money; we couldn’t even carry a purse to hold money, leaving us little temptation to buy. Window shopping was free.

 

Saturdays, after our large Sabbath lunch, I looked forward to our traditional walk from our apartment on Simpson Street to the shopping neighborhood on Southern Boulevard. Joy of joys, as a twelve-year-old, I had the pleasure of my favorite pastime, window shopping. Gladly, I had your company all to myself, since my older sister and brother preferred not to join us. Goldsteins Dress Shop was my cherished store, and I think yours too, Momma. Your eyes were glued to the half of the display that featured manikins dressed in women’s clothing. I was entranced with the blonde-haired blue-eyed manikins clad in girl’s dresses.

 

It was love at first sight, Momma. I fell in love with the maroon velvet dress with the square neckline and dropped gathered waistline. How I wished that dress was mine. You must have heard my silent prayer. Your camera eyes and sewing wisdom enabled you to snap a mental picture of that dress.  Your suggestion that I try on the dress was a good idea to enable you to check how the dress was sewn. We both knew good things would come out of this window-shopping adventure. 

 

The trip to the fabric store a few days later to buy the maroon fabric, the zipper and a spool of maroon thread was another great adventure. Momma, it never ceases to amaze me how you could cut out the dress without a Simplicity of Vogue pattern. After you basted the pieces together, I held my breath knowing pins would be needed to adjust the fitting. OUCH!! Sometimes I got stabbed by a pin.  My beautiful maroon velvet dress became a reality with the clanging of your Singer Treadle Sewing Machine. That dress was my Jewish Holiday dress and the dress I wore to my rich cousin’s party.  Momma, you were special, and you made me feel and look special. I owed you more appreciation, adulation and admiration and affection. Momma, I should have told you, "I love you.”

 

Your caring daughter,

 

Ethyl

 

(Momma died November 1977. I am a nonagenarian)