Pushing through, that’s what we have to do.

Goodness. Goodness, where have we been and where are we going?

One of my favorite little books is called Hey World, Here I am! – Jean Little

What is so cool, or amazing about Jean Little, when you turn to the back page and read this short biography. It reads:

Jean Little grew up in Ontario, Canda, and received a degree in English language and literature from the University of Toronto. Ms. Little is the author of many popular and award-winning books for children, (written over 50) including Look Through My Window, Kate, From Anna, and Stand in the Wind. 

Although Ms. Little has almost no vision, she travels extensively with her Seeing Eye Dog, Zephyr, and does her writing with a talking computer named SAM.

Just when you think the impossible is impossible – it is not. You have to keep the faith in all that is possible. Resilence from the time your rise until the time you shut your eyes.

Here is one of my favorite stories in the spirit of a couple close friends becoming first- time moms, birthing beautiful babies of their own.

Louisa, Louisa 

My family is having dinner with the Blairs.
I come early.
Emily shows off her sister Louisa.
Louisa, being only six weeks old, is not interested.
She keeps falling asleep.

“Smile, Louisa,” Emily orders, joggling her.
“Smile for Kate.”
Lousia yawns,
Waves one fist haphazardly and firmly closes both eyes.

“Emily, come and help me put the leaf in the table,”
Mrs. Blair calls.
“Drat!” says Emily. She hands over the baby.
“Hold her,” she recommends, and disappears.

So I hold you, Louisa.
I sit very still and
I hold you and watch you sleep.
For a moment, you are all mine.
Not that there is much of you . . .
But your eyelids flutter . . . I can feel you breathing . . .
You are terribly alive, Lousia.
There is so much you do not know.
Louisa, you do not know about school!
Do you know words, yet, Louisa? No, no words.
You have never heard of dying, Louisa.

. . . Shhh . . . sleep . . .

You will discover the sun.
You will see Emily laughing.
You will come upon the alphabet and rainbows.
You will ride an escalator.
You will read The Secret Garden for the first time.
You may love a boy called . . . Arthur. Or Bill.
You may go to Africa.
You’ll get a letter.
You will wear shoes and create a dance all your own.

Here is a secret, Louisa.
Living is worth schools.
Loving balances computers,
Even dying, Lousia, and knowing about dying,
cannot stop your dancing.

But now I am holding you
And you are sleeping.
Lousia, shh.
I love you right now, Louisa, before you know anything.
Before you even know that you are Louisa.

Jean Little passed April of this year. Hugs

A blip – (untitle)

Draw a line in the sand. Create your land, your castle.
Dig deep until the dry sand tumbles
over and the wet sand forms,
matted, mustered together.
Stack into a cup, a bucket,
pound it down hard, one
fist at a time,
flip it upside down.

Begin to create that place you imagine –

Dig all-around your three-tower castle,
run to the ocean and fill your bucket
and pour into the moat.

Imagine you sitting, being in that castle
What will you do now? Hold stubbornly
in, or open your hand to give?

Quickly chop your carrots and potatoes,
and pour into a big pot.
Steam the fresh fish you just caught.
Tap salt and pepper it make it
just right.

Invite your family, friends, cousins,
aunt, and uncles,
build that bridge first –
To share and rejoice in your
work, your strength, and offerings . . .

Then what? Dream some more.
The mind cannot be wasted, or
fasted on mindless dueling,
doiling thoughts. It likes
to tool about, nuts and bolts
grooved, connected, cemented, slide-
in just right, build
your next dream above.

Much love, Keep your head up.