Tuesday, November 4, 2014

my golden windows

I remember a bedtime story from a loooong time ago about a boy who thought the houses up on a hill had golden windows. He spent a good amount of time coveting them until he was coming home late one day and saw the sun reflecting on the windows of his own house - and they were gold. The story left an impression on me - I can honestly hear my mama's voice in my head every time I see golden windows. (Stories work like a charm.) 

The other night our street had golden windows. I was outside playing with my pirates. (Dinner happens time and time again, their youth only happens right now.) We were having such a grand time. I'd swing them around on the trampoline faster and faster and faster until their legs would fly out from underneath them and they'd go rolling into the net... and then jump up and beg for another turn. After that we took turn doing tricks, and after that we plain old jumped... as high as we could. It  was a crisp, Fall evening and it was so fun. I took the golden windows as signs from the good heavens above. Because life is golden. Amen.


Post a Comment