Tagged: short stories

It’s March again as I survey Scenes around the old home place It’s been vacant now for several years Sands of time, have changed it’s face How sad to see how fleeting years Cause structures to deteriorate Memory impels me face the fact Likewise our bodies do relate Beside the house, still standing there Something special caught my eye A yellow daffodil sprang forth Bathed by sunlight from the sky Mom planted it some years ago By God’s care, it was not bound To relinquish life to winters scorn A touch of spring, made it rebound If I could be...

It was a cold, cloudy and rainy morning outside my kitchen window today. I shivered and walked over to the kitchen table with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and a steaming bowl of oatmeal in the other. I sat down, gave thanks, and took in a spoonful of the oatmeal and a sip of the coffee. I sighed as my chilled insides grew instantly warmer. Just then I felt a nudge on my knee. I looked down and saw my little beagle, Snoopy’s warm brown eyes looking up at me. I petted her head and smiled down...

In His garden, there are flowers that blossom in the sun. They open in the morning and close when day is done. Some bloom in early springtime, just after winter’s chill, and some in heat of summer seem to cover every hill. They come in lovely colors, from bright to palest hue and the sweetest time to smell them is when they’re damp with dew. Yes, everyone loves flowers, but I think that you should know there are other things of beauty that in His garden grow. There are stalks of hardy grasses and frilly fronds of fern, prickly growth...

One day, there was a blind man sitting on the steps of a building with a sign by his feet, that read: “I am blind, please help.” A creative publicist was walking by the blind man and stopped to observe that the man only had a few coins in his hat. He put a few of his own coins in the hat, and without stopping to ask for permission, took the sign, turned it around, and wrote a new message. He then placed the sign by the feet of the blind man, and left. Later that afternoon the creative publicist...