mozart and bread

Katrien


The girl from Now Zad, I wonder about her daily. Does her brother still pick on her, is she beaten daily for being a girl. Does she still have a beautiful smile? I would love to brush her hair and put a sparkly barrette in it. I remember it matted with blood and dirt and the fear in her eye when I went to grab a stick out of it.  She crouched in horror, So I crouched down next to her and gave her a piece of candy. I reassured her that I wasn't going to hurt her.  She was an orphan. Who will be there to strengthen her and tell her it will all be ok?


I am thankful for my parents, the ones who taught me how to walk on my own two feet. They took me to the ocean side to smell the salty air and tippy toe on the drift wood, they made sure I knew how to walk the streets of the big city. My Father taught me the art of working through a sweat, scraping poles with a draw knife and digging holes till I had calluses on my palms.We spent hours building things, and working on the property through various projects. The pride and joy that he instilled in me, after finishing a project with my own two hands is a gift that I can not thank him enough for. My Mother gave me the gift of laughter and love. No matter how populated a place was, I was sure to find her through the contagious Kim laugh. Through all my trials and tribulations, she loved me for me and encouraged me to be exactly that, me.  She would bake bread while Mozart was in the background and I like to keep the fresh home baked bread aroma in the home a family tradition, because homemade bread is a gift of love.


I hope that my children will grow up to be strong and courageous with a yearning to know more and see more. Through their hard work and dedication I know they will do great things. I hope that I can teach them and love them through it. When they fail I hope they learn how to pick themselves up again and try harder. I hope they are spontaneous and laugh and love like I do.


“Children will not remember you for the material things you provided, but for the feeling that you cherished them.”

 ~ Richard Evans