My Godmother Mary is an amazing woman, her heart is golden, and her bones ivory. Her home is a sanctuary where darkness has no room. When she embraces me I know the meaning of heaven on earth.
Mary collects feelings, weaving them into soft spots. Her ear is ready to listen far into the night. When I am with her there is no other place I would rather be, she captivates my imagination and makes me laugh.
Seldom does anyone leave her home empty handed. I leave with a car full, and a spirit that soars.
If I could spend a million years with her I would never know boredom, and I am not exaggerating. She is just too good to be true.
Certainly the day she was born earth was a better place, heaven touched the ground and sang. My Godmother shares abundantly, she doesn't know the word selfish, she puts everyone on a throne.
I haven't had tea in the same cup twice. Mary finds her treasures at yard sales. She told me she cannot leave anything behind, especially if it is chipped or cracked. I believe Mary knows that being broken is being made whole.
You might say pink is Mary. Rosy true. Her beauty stems from caring for others. She has a knack for unfolding people's pain and given them a bundle of courage to carry on. Mary has a healing touch.
Here she is on her flower bed, holding court with her roses. You know life is too short, way too short to not have a slumber party. Why be ordinary when you can be extraordinary and wear bells on your toes?