Criticism, like rain, should be gentle enough to nourish a person's growth without destroying his roots.


Rain.


It can be a metaphor for so many things, from tears and death to cleansing and purity. Today, I had a sick day spent at home... and the rain just kept coming down in buckets and the rain kept reminding me of blessings.


When you get to be my age, you start doing a lot of taking stock of things. I guess it's natural to have regrets and to have wishes that never came true in your life. However, I feel differently. I think about all the stuff that has gone undeniably right in my life. I have had some tragic moments to be sure... none of us gets through this world completely unscathed. As I listened to the passing storms today alone in a very quiet house, I heard sounds that reminded me how very lucky I was to be in a position of few regrets.
A house of many blessings.


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