Exceptional We all search for it. Where Do We Find Joy? by papa55mike

Where do we find joy? In Her Eyes They're an emerald green filled with many emotions. A stunning variety of hues that display certain moods better than her facial expressions. I guess you can call it a "mood ring" thing. Do you remember them? The darker the hues, the more intense the situation. The day we were married, her eyes were dark as a forest canopy, seething sexuality. The day her mother died, they were bright as the sun but full of tears. I held close and let her weep. I've often wondered where I'd be without her eyes in my life. The joy they bring to all is endless. Reading I'm looking around the house; the coast is finally clear. Now, where is my book? I find it under a stack of papers from work. What was I thinking? My recliner beckons me, but first, I need to adjust the reading light to just over my right shoulder. When I left our hero, he was surrounded by the enemy, after his sidekick was killed in the stampede. But they never found his body. His loving wife was stretched out above the blazing fire, and the flames danced around her. I've been waiting for three days to find out what happens! After finding my spot in the book, my eyes begin to devour the words on the page. Helping We park the van behind the tent. My friends and I are here to pass out a thousand backpacks full of school supplies to needy families in Memphis. There are also booths giving away Khaki pants and polos, coupons for half off at the shoe store, and local barbers are giving free haircuts to the boys. I can't count the families standing in line. The gate opens, and I'll never forget the joy on the faces of the children. We give away each backpack with a hug and telling every child that Jesus loves them. The children can't wait to see what's inside. Every face glows with gratitude.  Planting Seeds This project started on April fifteenth, when my granddaughter and I set out to plant our flower gardens. I already had the beds prepared; she has no desire to pull weeds and till the soil. I let Stephie plant one row of each flower, all by herself. She planted each seed with a delicate touch, then carefully covered them with soil. Afterward, Stephie wiped her dirty hands all over her new pink shorts. I pull the hose out, and we water them every day until we see the first sprouts breaking the soil. Two months later, I'm sitting in the porch swing when Stephie sits down beside me with a Zinnia in her hand. She touches the florets in the center then looks at the yellow pollen on the tip of her finger. Gently rubbing the bright pink petals, she slowly turns to me with a beautiful smile. "I love you, Papa." In our hearts! Recognized Author Notes I hope this brings a little joy to those who are gripped with fear. We live in amazing times. Many thanks for stopping by to read! Have a great day, and God bless. mike

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