How do you carry your heart of gold? Are there some mornings where its sheer weight makes it hard to rise? Does it push and pull other organs, throwing its weight around? Does it flow blood the same, push beats the same, feel love the same?
How do you bear a heart of gold? Does each slight cut deeper, each hurt sting sharper? When you give so openly what do you have left for yourself?
How do you feel with your heart of gold? Does each hug feel warmer? Do the kind words, acts of grace, thoughtful gestures fill you up fuller? Do you carry love deeper?
I may not know how it feels for you but I know how it feels for us.
Tagged: childhood, Penny, photography
If I lived in a gingerbread house every day would be sugar-coated, the smell of cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger would waft through the house filling my soul and satisfying my taste buds and my neighbors would all have impeccable taste creating a healthy competition in seasonal landscaping. Each night when I would sleep the skies would fill with gum drops and each morning when I would wake fresh snow would fall. I would believe that everything is possible, that dreams come true and all mankind is inherently good because I live in a gingerbread house, after all. 
