“My friends, if we tend to the things that are important in life, if we are right with those we love and behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of 'I could have, I should have.' We can sleep in a storm.
"And when it's time, our good-byes will be complete.”
Source: Have a Little Faith: A True Story
“Work On Your Game”
Source: The Super You: Unlocking and Living With Your Highest Level Of Confidence
“I’ve never been one to trade my authenticity for acceptance or applause.”
Source: Brotherhood is a VERB!: Not Just Another Damn Leadership Book
“Grateful For You
A gratitude poem from a Mother to her miracle child
You are a wonderful treasure
My love for you I cannot measure
In you, God gave me an Angel
Through you, I was blessed by the Heavens
An answered prayer of way back
Just when I thought it was over
My precious gift from Above, you showed up!
Filled with your bright smile and loads of fun
You make me so fine
Oh, what a privilege in life!
To be given such a sense of pride
As I call you my child
While you chose to be mine
You are so kind
You bring me hope every time
I could go through heavy tides
With you by my side
I always rise
You help me to make many strides
I cannot drown, not even once
You give me a better chance
To become a daring Mom
I have peace, even in the storm
Because you teach me to stay strong
So glad you came along
And never left me all alone
What an honour to be your Mother!
My perfect match
Such a great catch!
My very best friend
Will you lend me a hand?
To walk beside you on this land
You are all I ever need
And I am so grateful for you”
Source: From My Mother's Classroom: A Badge of Honour for a Remarkable Woman
“The Priceless Job of Motherhood
God of Heaven!
I am here on Earth
To follow a Divine mandate
Of being a loving Mother
I know I have no strength
To this on my own
I pray for your wisdom
So, I can carry this task
Without a fright
As I raise these children
Please help me remember
I was never hired for this role
But highly favoured, to find myself in it
Hence, I acknowledge this privilege
Lord, I lift my hands
And bow to Your Majestic name
I say from the top of my voice
Thank you Father
For the priceless job of Motherhood!”
Source: From My Mother's Classroom: A Badge of Honour for a Remarkable Woman
“My Precious Child
If I had pearls or petalite
A few emeralds
Countless tanzanite
Some diamonds
Perhaps gold and granite
If I had all of that
On my hands
All over my place
Would that replace you?
No ways, not at all
You are too special in my heart
Being positioned in my life
By God’s Divine design
A gift that I treasure
Hence, I cannot chase after fortune
I am the most fortunate
To walk this journey with you
You make my days shine brighter
I embrace the bliss you brought along
Through you I gained wisdom
Among other things in this world
You carry so much worth
With you I found wealth
That is why I appreciate you
For so many reasons
Throughout the seasons
I need so much of you
My precious child!”
Source: From My Mother's Classroom: A Badge of Honour for a Remarkable Woman
“Sitting under a tree, I studied my options. The fall flowers were in full bloom: verbena, goldenrod, chrysanthemum, and a late-blooming rose. The carefully tended city beds around the park held layers of textured evergreen but little color.
I set to work, considering height, density, texture, and layers of scent, removing touch-damaged petals with careful pinches. When I had finished, spiraling white mums emerged from a cushion of snow-colored verbena, and clusters of pale climbing roses circled and dripped over the edge of a tightly wrapped nosegay. I removed every thorn. The bouquet was white as a wedding and spoke of prayers, truth, and an unacquainted heart.”
Source: The Language of Flowers
“When my hunger grew to the point of distraction, I climbed onto buses and rode to the Marina, Fillmore Street, or Pacific Heights. I toured high-end delis, lingering at polished marble countertops and sampling an olive, a slice of Canadian bacon, or a sliver of Havarti. I asked the questions Elizabeth would have asked: which olive oils are unfiltered; exactly how "fresh" was the albacore, the salmon, the sole; how sweet were the season's first blood oranges?”
Source: The Language of Flowers
“At the end of each day, Elizabeth read to me. She had shelves and shelves of children's classics, dusty hardcovers with stamped gold titles: 'The Secret Garden', 'Pollyanna', and 'A Tree Grows in Brooklyn'. But I preferred her viticulture textbooks, the illustrations of plants and chemical equations clues to the world that surrounded me. I memorized vocabulary- nitrate leaching, carbon sequestration, integrated pest management- and used them in casual conversation with a seriousness that made Elizabeth laugh.”
Source: The Language of Flowers
“Bowing my head, I dipped my nose into the bouquet I'd assembled. There was flax, and forget-me-not, and hazel. There were white roses and pink ones, helenium and periwinkle, primrose, and lots and lots of bellflower. Between the tightly wrapped stems I'd packed velvety moss, barely visible, and I had sprinkled the bouquet with the purple and white petals of Grant's Mexican sage. The bouquet was enormous, and not nearly enough.”
Source: The Language of Flowers