On an autumn day, if you're going through Shelby, North Carolina; a greenhouse sits on a hill off the road.
Category: inspiration
What the Farm Means to Me
There was never a flower, wild or not, our daughter failed to love.
Reemergence: Those Sweet Honeybees don’t Know Me
Remember, those sweet honeybees don't know me. A sparkling sassiness has overtaken the sarcasm, which was always a part of my personality. It's an attitude of: "Honey, if you don't like it, there's the door. The beautiful thing about the door is that you can fit through it and I can shut it."
Mother’s Day for Those Without Hallmark Cards
We are not forever cast to the darkness, nor would our children here, in heaven, wished for, wondered about, or mothers we miss or worry for want us to exist there.
My Daughter’s Hands
One isn't weak because they break from the storm set to take the love you won’t forsake. Harsh words reflect shadows we cannot shake.
Cherry Blossoms: How Dreams for Our Children Change
We all have dreams for our children. I've often seen them symbolized in Cherry Blossom Trees
Should I Lose my Way, a Poem
Should I lose my way, I'll look to the gardens. I'll not look to the sky.
“Are You Looking, Mommy?”
When I see the daffodils, I spot her run behind the trees.
Son, Still We Walk, Still We Rise
I wrote all of this for our son, so he knows there is life after darkness. There is growth after frost. There are people who love, and those who do not.
A Journey Long after the Casseroles are Gone
Never walk alone. I'll be here long after the casseroles are gone.
Corrie's Season 