Happy Valentines Day, dear reader. I appreciate the time you share with me. I appreciate your comments and your support. I hope you have a wonderful day and that you share it with someone you love. Today, remember that you are loved, and that I like you, just the way you are.
Just the Way You Are
I like your eyes. I like your nose.
I like your elbows and your toes.
I like the way you laugh and shout.
I like your insides and your out.
I like the happy way you walk.
I like to listen when you talk.
I like the way you think and feel.
I like the part of you that’s real.
I like you when you’re on the go,
And even when you’re movin’ slow.
I like to see you jump and run.
I like you ‘cause you’re so much fun.
I like to watch you sing and dance.
I join you when I get the chance.
I like the spunky clothes you wear.
I like the way you wear your hair.
I like the sparkle in your smile.
I like your attitude, your style.
I like you when you’re happy,
and even when you’re sad.
I like you when you’re snappy,
and even when you’re mad.
You’re gentle, brave, and helpful, too.
You’re funny, cheerful, honest, true.
You’re talented and very smart.
You have a kind and loving heart.
And even on the worst of days
When nothing goes quite right,
I like you in the best of ways.
I like you day or night.
And though you’re always changing,
You don’t have to change for me.
I like you just the way you are.
Be who you want to be.
Warmly,
Linda Garner
p.s.
Hey this would make a great picture book, wouldn't it.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Monday, August 8, 2011
Love
I know this blog is about writing, but I have these two great quotes I want to share.
"They do not love that do not show their love." Shakespeare
"Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved." Thomas S. Monson
I'm going to a family reunion, so happy loving this week.
Christy Monson
"They do not love that do not show their love." Shakespeare
"Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved." Thomas S. Monson
I'm going to a family reunion, so happy loving this week.
Christy Monson
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
December Morning
December morning robed in white.
Snowflakes gathered through the night,
Gentle reminders of the love
that gathers daily from above.
My heart has saved a sacred place
To think of His redeeming grace,
And on this morning crisp and clear
I seem to feel his presence near.
I’m grateful for the wondrous Man
Who magnified our Father’s plan.
I celebrate His life, His birth,
His perfect love which gives me worth.
On every morn throughout the year
I hope to feel His presence near.
And may I someday grow to be
The woman that He sees in me.
Linda Garner
Snowflakes gathered through the night,
Gentle reminders of the love
that gathers daily from above.
My heart has saved a sacred place
To think of His redeeming grace,
And on this morning crisp and clear
I seem to feel his presence near.
I’m grateful for the wondrous Man
Who magnified our Father’s plan.
I celebrate His life, His birth,
His perfect love which gives me worth.
On every morn throughout the year
I hope to feel His presence near.
And may I someday grow to be
The woman that He sees in me.
Linda Garner
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Gifts of Autumn
There is something about autumn, isn’t there? Something earthy, mysterious, thought provoking, brave. Today I look out my window at a smoky autumn sky, watching the last courageous leaves flutter in the wind. Change is in the air.
I love change.
I enjoy retreating inward with my thoughts. I dust off my dreams, caress my emotions, and chat with wandering ideas. I get in touch with the girl I used to be and the vision of my future. It’s feels wonderful to curl up inside my head with a comfy blanket of acceptance and breathe the air of change. Oh, summer was wonderful, and spring delightful, but autumn is a time for reflection.
I love questions. They are so empowering.
Where have I come from? Where I am I going? What do I treasure most? Am I honoring my destiny, my hopes, my dreams? Am I honoring my past and my future? Do I know myself? Am I true to my vision?
Am I caught up in the thick of thin things? Am I creating joy? Am I making a difference?
Autumn has many answers, and I go inside to find them. In that sacred space where only I am allowed, I find myself, stripped of worldly nonsense. On this journey I discover many gifts. Joy, love, peace, warmth, trust, desire, and hope, along with child-like delight and wonder.
Such are the gifts of autumn.
May autumn bring you many gifts. May your heart and home be filled with love…to overflowing.
I send you autumn’s warmth, with love.
Linda Garner
I love change.
I enjoy retreating inward with my thoughts. I dust off my dreams, caress my emotions, and chat with wandering ideas. I get in touch with the girl I used to be and the vision of my future. It’s feels wonderful to curl up inside my head with a comfy blanket of acceptance and breathe the air of change. Oh, summer was wonderful, and spring delightful, but autumn is a time for reflection.
I love questions. They are so empowering.
Where have I come from? Where I am I going? What do I treasure most? Am I honoring my destiny, my hopes, my dreams? Am I honoring my past and my future? Do I know myself? Am I true to my vision?
Am I caught up in the thick of thin things? Am I creating joy? Am I making a difference?
Autumn has many answers, and I go inside to find them. In that sacred space where only I am allowed, I find myself, stripped of worldly nonsense. On this journey I discover many gifts. Joy, love, peace, warmth, trust, desire, and hope, along with child-like delight and wonder.
Such are the gifts of autumn.
May autumn bring you many gifts. May your heart and home be filled with love…to overflowing.
I send you autumn’s warmth, with love.
Linda Garner
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
God's Post-it Notes
Aren't they cute. I know they're tiny, but if you click on them individually they get bigger. Come back tomorrow for more great thoughts like these.
I hope I don't get in trouble for posting this. It's not my work. It was an email forward. I loved it enough to share it with you. Enjoy. Have an awesome day.
Linda Garner
Monday, August 30, 2010
Garden of Love
My Grandmother's Old Fashioned Garden
Author unknown
My grandmother dear
Has a garden,
Old fashioned and quaint
As can be
The flowers so rare,
That none can compare,
'Neath the plum and apricot
And cherry tree.
Would you like me to
Show you the garden?
Then follow me now
And we'll go
'Round the old grape-vine arbor,
Back of the walk,
Where the birds and the butterflies
And flowers grow.
The daisies and lilies
Are telling
Of grandmother's kind,
Tender care
Sweet william and peas,
Heliatrope and heartsease,
And violets, modest
'Tho fragrant and fair.
I still long for
My grandmother's garden;
With hollyhocks,
Stately and tall
And sometimes in my dreams
I see her, it seems,
My dear grandmother
Standing there close to the wall.
In my grandmother's
Old fashioned garden,
There are flow'rs
Of every hue
Daffodils, pansies,
And hyacinths
And old fashioned pinks
Are there too.
I belong to
My grandmother's garden,
I was picked
From the family tree;
So out in my grandmother's
Old fashioned garden,
If you come there
You will find me.
I was taught to sing this song when I was very young. It was appropriate. My grandmother had a way with flowers. Fragrant lilacs bordered her patio and her zinnia garden was enchanting. Other wonderful flowers graced her yard. I remember watching her make dolls and dresses from Hollyhocks. Her brilliant peonies belonged in a Queen’s garden. I could imagine myself a queen when I walked among them. The pinks and sweetpeas she had likely borrowed from the fairies. Among those fairy flowers lived gnomes and forest creatures which gave our childish imaginations wings. I don’t know where Grandma purchased the little garden statues that I loved so, but I never outgrew their charm. Grandma’s garden was a magical place and I loved being there.
I loved all of Grandma’s flowers, but my personal favorites were the bleeding hearts. They bloomed in early spring. The heart shaped blossoms that hung from delicate lacy looking plants were delightful. I couldn’t get enough of them. I was always sorry when they disappeared in the summer heat. My mother borrowed starts of bleeding hearts for her yard. When I was married and had a home of my own, Grandma was gone and I asked Mother for starts.
My shovel wielding Dad was the one who dug the starts and brought them to me. Mother gasped when she saw how many he had dug. No matter, there were plenty to go around. I planted every start. I couldn’t wait for spring and the appearance of the delicate hearts.
The odd thing about my bleeding hearts, is they never grew in the same place twice. In my mother’s garden, I think they did. I suppose that they behaved themselves in Grandma’s garden. In my garden, though, they had a mind of their own. Since bleeding hearts love shade, I had envisioned them filling a shady spot underneath the eaves. Yet, invariably they chose a variety of random spots to make their appearance. It seems that my particular bleeding hearts prefer sun. For years I dutifully dug them up and transplanted them to my selected shady space. Eventually, I gave in to them, and allowed them free reign of the yard.
A few years ago friend-husband and I moved to Arkansas for a couple of seasons. We rented our home to newlyweds. Not knowing how I cherished the bleeding hearts, they made some changes to our garden. The bleeding hearts were gone. In their place was a bark covered mat, the kind that doesn’t let in light and doesn’t allow weeds, or bleeding hearts, to grow. I’m a big girl, but there was a little ache in my heart at the loss of the bleeding hearts. Oh, I knew I could buy more, but it wouldn’t be the same as having a bit of my Grandmother’s garden.
To my delight, a few brave bleeding hearts eventually grew somewhat sideways out from under the edges of the mat. I carefully transplanted them in friendlier territory. Today they flourish, a lovely gift from my gentle grandma. Was it she who coaxed them to grow from under the mat?
My Grandma’s name was Sarah. Recently I read that her mother, Maraldia, loved bleeding hearts. Perhaps Sarah’s starts came from Maraldia’s garden. And who knows where Maraldia got hers. Maybe the hearts I grow are older than I imagined. Maybe their roots are deep and sure as I want my roots to be. I am connected by birth to women that I admire and love. Some of them I scarcely knew, yet we share many things. In fact, we even share a garden, a garden of love.
Author unknown
My grandmother dear
Has a garden,
Old fashioned and quaint
As can be
The flowers so rare,
That none can compare,
'Neath the plum and apricot
And cherry tree.
Would you like me to
Show you the garden?
Then follow me now
And we'll go
'Round the old grape-vine arbor,
Back of the walk,
Where the birds and the butterflies
And flowers grow.
The daisies and lilies
Are telling
Of grandmother's kind,
Tender care
Sweet william and peas,
Heliatrope and heartsease,
And violets, modest
'Tho fragrant and fair.
I still long for
My grandmother's garden;
With hollyhocks,
Stately and tall
And sometimes in my dreams
I see her, it seems,
My dear grandmother
Standing there close to the wall.
In my grandmother's
Old fashioned garden,
There are flow'rs
Of every hue
Daffodils, pansies,
And hyacinths
And old fashioned pinks
Are there too.
I belong to
My grandmother's garden,
I was picked
From the family tree;
So out in my grandmother's
Old fashioned garden,
If you come there
You will find me.
I was taught to sing this song when I was very young. It was appropriate. My grandmother had a way with flowers. Fragrant lilacs bordered her patio and her zinnia garden was enchanting. Other wonderful flowers graced her yard. I remember watching her make dolls and dresses from Hollyhocks. Her brilliant peonies belonged in a Queen’s garden. I could imagine myself a queen when I walked among them. The pinks and sweetpeas she had likely borrowed from the fairies. Among those fairy flowers lived gnomes and forest creatures which gave our childish imaginations wings. I don’t know where Grandma purchased the little garden statues that I loved so, but I never outgrew their charm. Grandma’s garden was a magical place and I loved being there.
I loved all of Grandma’s flowers, but my personal favorites were the bleeding hearts. They bloomed in early spring. The heart shaped blossoms that hung from delicate lacy looking plants were delightful. I couldn’t get enough of them. I was always sorry when they disappeared in the summer heat. My mother borrowed starts of bleeding hearts for her yard. When I was married and had a home of my own, Grandma was gone and I asked Mother for starts.
My shovel wielding Dad was the one who dug the starts and brought them to me. Mother gasped when she saw how many he had dug. No matter, there were plenty to go around. I planted every start. I couldn’t wait for spring and the appearance of the delicate hearts.
The odd thing about my bleeding hearts, is they never grew in the same place twice. In my mother’s garden, I think they did. I suppose that they behaved themselves in Grandma’s garden. In my garden, though, they had a mind of their own. Since bleeding hearts love shade, I had envisioned them filling a shady spot underneath the eaves. Yet, invariably they chose a variety of random spots to make their appearance. It seems that my particular bleeding hearts prefer sun. For years I dutifully dug them up and transplanted them to my selected shady space. Eventually, I gave in to them, and allowed them free reign of the yard.
A few years ago friend-husband and I moved to Arkansas for a couple of seasons. We rented our home to newlyweds. Not knowing how I cherished the bleeding hearts, they made some changes to our garden. The bleeding hearts were gone. In their place was a bark covered mat, the kind that doesn’t let in light and doesn’t allow weeds, or bleeding hearts, to grow. I’m a big girl, but there was a little ache in my heart at the loss of the bleeding hearts. Oh, I knew I could buy more, but it wouldn’t be the same as having a bit of my Grandmother’s garden.
To my delight, a few brave bleeding hearts eventually grew somewhat sideways out from under the edges of the mat. I carefully transplanted them in friendlier territory. Today they flourish, a lovely gift from my gentle grandma. Was it she who coaxed them to grow from under the mat?
My Grandma’s name was Sarah. Recently I read that her mother, Maraldia, loved bleeding hearts. Perhaps Sarah’s starts came from Maraldia’s garden. And who knows where Maraldia got hers. Maybe the hearts I grow are older than I imagined. Maybe their roots are deep and sure as I want my roots to be. I am connected by birth to women that I admire and love. Some of them I scarcely knew, yet we share many things. In fact, we even share a garden, a garden of love.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Hallelujah!
I don't know if anyone will read this post, since Christmas is just around the corner and you're probably doing the hundred yard dash, just like I am. I hope that your holiday is beautiful and happy and sane.(I hear that sanity is over-rated, but like you, I have grown attached to it.) I wish you joy. I wish you miracles. I wish you love. May your Christmas be meaningful and satisfying.
Now if you have two minutes to spare, click here and enjoy a Christmas laugh.
Linda Garner
Now if you have two minutes to spare, click here and enjoy a Christmas laugh.
Linda Garner
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Teach-er (noun) There is no greater word.
I just bought a t-shirt with that message on it. It’s got some bling on it—sparkly apples—one gold, one red. I thought it would be fun to wear. I needed a long sleeved shirt, and it was on clearance. Just my size. I didn’t think much about the message—not at first.
No greater word—so true. I am thankful for the teachers in my life. In many ways, I am a product of their work. They taught me diligence and respect. They taught me to love my country. They taught me to share.
No greater word—parents, my first and last teachers. In many ways I am a product of their example. They taught me obedience. They taught me excellence. They taught me that family comes first. They taught me that I am daughter of God.
No greater word—friends, old and new. In many ways I am a product of their touch. They have taught me to laugh. They have taught me to be myself. They have taught me to find joy. They have taught me to expect miracles.
No greater word—Jesus, the master teacher. In many ways I am a product of his love. He has taught me to serve. He has taught me to give. He has taught me to trust. He has taught me to love. He has opened my heart. He has given me a reason to live.
Today with thankful heart, I celebrate the teachers in my life. What wondrous gifts they have given. When I grow up, I want to be just like them.
Teach-er (noun) There is no greater word.
Linda Garner
No greater word—so true. I am thankful for the teachers in my life. In many ways, I am a product of their work. They taught me diligence and respect. They taught me to love my country. They taught me to share.
No greater word—parents, my first and last teachers. In many ways I am a product of their example. They taught me obedience. They taught me excellence. They taught me that family comes first. They taught me that I am daughter of God.
No greater word—friends, old and new. In many ways I am a product of their touch. They have taught me to laugh. They have taught me to be myself. They have taught me to find joy. They have taught me to expect miracles.
No greater word—Jesus, the master teacher. In many ways I am a product of his love. He has taught me to serve. He has taught me to give. He has taught me to trust. He has taught me to love. He has opened my heart. He has given me a reason to live.
Today with thankful heart, I celebrate the teachers in my life. What wondrous gifts they have given. When I grow up, I want to be just like them.
Teach-er (noun) There is no greater word.
Linda Garner
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
The Price of Freedom part 2
Remember The Message? That was the book I wrote about in late December or early January. Lance Richardson spent several weeks in a medically induced coma while his body was healing from a terrible injury. While in the coma he had a life-changing experience beyond the veil.
While on the other side he visited with soldiers who had given their lives in battle for the freedom of our nation. They taught him that liberty is a precious gift from God. They explained to him that few nations had ever experienced such freedom as we enjoy. Very few people have ever known true liberty. They asked Lance what he was doing to further the cause of liberty and asked him to return to mortality with a message.
The message which Lance was to bring to us was about Liberty. These soldiers are depending on us to carry on their work. They ask us to appreciate and defend our liberties, and not just on the battlefield. In words of soberness and pleading
1. They ask us to return to the values and morals which once made us strong.
2. They ask us to believe in truth that is eternal and unchanging.
3. They ask us to turn back to God, as a nation.
4. They ask us to safeguard the family.
5. They warn us that God will protect America so long as we serve Him. They warn that if we as a people do not turn back to God, family, and country, we will self-destruct and be destroyed.
6. They plead with us to replace selfishness with service.
These valiant men, who sacrificed so much for the cause of liberty, admonish us to take action. Love is the greatest power in the world. It is often in short supply these days. They explained that if the citizens of the Unites States would love and serve, it would do more to heal our nation than any other thing that could be done. Healing begins in the hearts of our citizens. To change a nation, we must change hearts.
As we serve our families, we will love them more, and we will become closer. Our hearts will be changed. As we serve our neighbors and communities, we will break down barriers which divide us. We will cause peace and love to enter our cities. Love and peace are contagious. We can create a day this world has never seen.
This is the message Lance brought to us from beyond the veil. We can self-destruct through selfishness or we can create change through love and service. The choice is ours.
I love America. Americans have a wonderful way of re-inventing themselves. I vote for this kind of change. Where do I sign up? See you there.
Linda Garner
While on the other side he visited with soldiers who had given their lives in battle for the freedom of our nation. They taught him that liberty is a precious gift from God. They explained to him that few nations had ever experienced such freedom as we enjoy. Very few people have ever known true liberty. They asked Lance what he was doing to further the cause of liberty and asked him to return to mortality with a message.
The message which Lance was to bring to us was about Liberty. These soldiers are depending on us to carry on their work. They ask us to appreciate and defend our liberties, and not just on the battlefield. In words of soberness and pleading
1. They ask us to return to the values and morals which once made us strong.
2. They ask us to believe in truth that is eternal and unchanging.
3. They ask us to turn back to God, as a nation.
4. They ask us to safeguard the family.
5. They warn us that God will protect America so long as we serve Him. They warn that if we as a people do not turn back to God, family, and country, we will self-destruct and be destroyed.
6. They plead with us to replace selfishness with service.
These valiant men, who sacrificed so much for the cause of liberty, admonish us to take action. Love is the greatest power in the world. It is often in short supply these days. They explained that if the citizens of the Unites States would love and serve, it would do more to heal our nation than any other thing that could be done. Healing begins in the hearts of our citizens. To change a nation, we must change hearts.
As we serve our families, we will love them more, and we will become closer. Our hearts will be changed. As we serve our neighbors and communities, we will break down barriers which divide us. We will cause peace and love to enter our cities. Love and peace are contagious. We can create a day this world has never seen.
This is the message Lance brought to us from beyond the veil. We can self-destruct through selfishness or we can create change through love and service. The choice is ours.
I love America. Americans have a wonderful way of re-inventing themselves. I vote for this kind of change. Where do I sign up? See you there.
Linda Garner
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Love Child
Do you have a love child; a piece of writing that is really special to you; something you’ve bonded with, and you really want to share? I bond with almost everything I write, so I have a lot of love children. Sometimes I really want to find a home for these children and when things don’t work out with a publisher, I am not quite sure what to do with my orphans.
This is just the case with a love child that I will share with you today. This poem feels special to me, but so far no one wants to publish it. This is a religious poem, so it needs a religious home. I have tried all the religious publishers that I am familiar with and, alas, they have all rejected it.
Since no one wants to publish my love child, I have decided to share it with you. I hope that you will enjoy it. I hope that it will remind you of someone who loves you very much and would love to hold you close. I hope that it will remind you of the seed of divinity that is within you.
I imagined my love child as a picture book with beautiful illustrations of the Savior. I had hoped that it would help children to feel the love of Jesus. Perhaps, instead, it is for the child in each of us. You can imagine your own illustrations. Maybe my orphan can find a home in your heart.
How Much Does He Love Me
By Linda Kay Garner
How much does He love me,
Jesus, my truest friend?
He loves me more than words can tell
or mind can comprehend.
For on this earth He walked the path
That showed me what to do.
I want to serve Him all my days.
I promise to be true.
How much does He love me,
Jesus, my powerful friend?
For He commands the thunder
and He commands the wind.
His love is warmer than the sun,
More mighty than the sea.
His voice is gentle as the snow.
His words, “Come follow me.”
Oh how I want to follow.
I promise not to stray.
He has the power to bring me home,
if I can just obey.
And though the days are sometimes hard,
the nights are sometimes long,
And on my own I’m sometimes weak,
Together, we are strong.
How much does He love me,
Jesus, my gentle friend?
He is the one who died for me
that I might live again.
He is the one who bled for me
in Gethsemane’s sacred garden.
He is the one who pleads for me
that God will grant me pardon.
He conquered death. He conquered sin.
It is my favorite story.
He is the shepherd of my soul.
He is the King of Glory.
I do not know how great the cost,
What pain He had to suffer.
He died for you; He died for me;
Our Savior and our brother.
How can I show my love for Him,
My Savior and my King?
What do I have to give to him?
What offering can I bring?
The gifts He gave are mighty.
The gifts I bring are small.
He wants me to remember Him
And share His love with all.
And when I take the Sacrament
I do remember Him.
I think of how He chose to live
completely without sin.
I think about the BREAD OF LIFE
while I eat the bread,
And of the multitudes He taught,
and of the ones He fed.
I hunger for His warm embrace
and for His healing touch.
I promise to be like Him.
I want His love so much.
I thirst for His forgiveness
when I falter and I sin;
And when the cup reaches my lips,
He bids me, “try again.”
I think of LIVING WATER
and I promise to obey,
To stand for truth and righteousness
at home, at work, at play.
I think of His commandments.
I will try to do my part.
I’ll give to Him my love, my hands,
and most of all, my heart.
Today is a great day to remember Him who heals all wounds, feel close to Him, and remember who you are. Have a beautiful day.
Linda Garner
This is just the case with a love child that I will share with you today. This poem feels special to me, but so far no one wants to publish it. This is a religious poem, so it needs a religious home. I have tried all the religious publishers that I am familiar with and, alas, they have all rejected it.
Since no one wants to publish my love child, I have decided to share it with you. I hope that you will enjoy it. I hope that it will remind you of someone who loves you very much and would love to hold you close. I hope that it will remind you of the seed of divinity that is within you.
I imagined my love child as a picture book with beautiful illustrations of the Savior. I had hoped that it would help children to feel the love of Jesus. Perhaps, instead, it is for the child in each of us. You can imagine your own illustrations. Maybe my orphan can find a home in your heart.
How Much Does He Love Me
By Linda Kay Garner
How much does He love me,
Jesus, my truest friend?
He loves me more than words can tell
or mind can comprehend.
For on this earth He walked the path
That showed me what to do.
I want to serve Him all my days.
I promise to be true.
How much does He love me,
Jesus, my powerful friend?
For He commands the thunder
and He commands the wind.
His love is warmer than the sun,
More mighty than the sea.
His voice is gentle as the snow.
His words, “Come follow me.”
Oh how I want to follow.
I promise not to stray.
He has the power to bring me home,
if I can just obey.
And though the days are sometimes hard,
the nights are sometimes long,
And on my own I’m sometimes weak,
Together, we are strong.
How much does He love me,
Jesus, my gentle friend?
He is the one who died for me
that I might live again.
He is the one who bled for me
in Gethsemane’s sacred garden.
He is the one who pleads for me
that God will grant me pardon.
He conquered death. He conquered sin.
It is my favorite story.
He is the shepherd of my soul.
He is the King of Glory.
I do not know how great the cost,
What pain He had to suffer.
He died for you; He died for me;
Our Savior and our brother.
How can I show my love for Him,
My Savior and my King?
What do I have to give to him?
What offering can I bring?
The gifts He gave are mighty.
The gifts I bring are small.
He wants me to remember Him
And share His love with all.
And when I take the Sacrament
I do remember Him.
I think of how He chose to live
completely without sin.
I think about the BREAD OF LIFE
while I eat the bread,
And of the multitudes He taught,
and of the ones He fed.
I hunger for His warm embrace
and for His healing touch.
I promise to be like Him.
I want His love so much.
I thirst for His forgiveness
when I falter and I sin;
And when the cup reaches my lips,
He bids me, “try again.”
I think of LIVING WATER
and I promise to obey,
To stand for truth and righteousness
at home, at work, at play.
I think of His commandments.
I will try to do my part.
I’ll give to Him my love, my hands,
and most of all, my heart.
Today is a great day to remember Him who heals all wounds, feel close to Him, and remember who you are. Have a beautiful day.
Linda Garner
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
For the Children
I just returned from a wonderful adventure in music. I attended a 5 day Piano Basics workshop in not-so-sunny California. The company was warm and sweet, the instruction was incredible, and the children were delightful. I had the opportunity to observe many children being taught by incredible Japanese Teachers. We do not share the language of words, but we share the language of music and the language of the heart.
My love for children, my love for music, and my love for writing came together for a time as I found myself writing poems for the children. I will share some of them with you. I hope that you will enjoy them. I will post the rest tomorrow. Feel free to come back for more.
More tomorrow.
Linda Garner
My love for children, my love for music, and my love for writing came together for a time as I found myself writing poems for the children. I will share some of them with you. I hope that you will enjoy them. I will post the rest tomorrow. Feel free to come back for more.
Audrey
Almond eyes.
Cheeks of pink.
Silky hair; black and sleek.
Her smile lights up her face.
Tiny girl with large heart
and magic fingers.
Her music
makes me
Smile.
Lauren
Lovely Lauren.
Dark eyed beauty.
Her fingers fly.
Her body sways
gracefully.
Her music makes
my heart sing.
Her smile makes
my heart dance.
Lovely Lauren.
Quinn
Handsome Quinn
With eyes so bright
listens carefully to teacher
and follows her lead.
Fingers hug keys
and make the piano sing.
She asks; he responds.
Eliza
Fingers dancing.
Music swirling,
swishing, sailing;
filling the air
with joyous melody
and sweet harmony.
Beautiful sound.
Beautiful heart.
Beautiful girl.
Andrew
Courageous, yet tender.
Caring, but strong.
Sharing your music.
Sharing your song.
Can you play with one hand
starting anywhere?
Can you touch, then take?
You can.
I know you can.
Change isn’t easy,
but worth it.
You are in charge.
Hans
Beethoven’s music
coming from your fingers
warms my heart
and makes me think
happy thoughts.
May you always have
A heart like his.
Jacob
Jacob handsome, Jacob tall.
Your long arms and strong fingers
coax gentle music from
the silent keys.
You are powerful.
You are the master.
Obedient fingers
are your servants.
Zachary
Your fingers dance
to Beethoven’s song,
and make me want
to run and play,
to laugh with you
and share your smile.
Share your music
and your smile
often,
so that others
will laugh and smile
with you.
Ashley
I am so glad
you have become
friends with Bach.
He is my friend, too.
As you share his music
with me,
I feel close to you,
and want to be
your friend.
Ethan
Handsome Ethan.
Small brown boy.
Small brown hands.
Big eyes.
Big heart.
Fingers must move
so the sound
you make
will be as big
as your eyes,
and as big
as your heart.
Rachel
Rachel with the sparkling eyes,
How your sound sparkles today.
Above the keyboard is a magic
place for your clever fingers.
In this magic place
moving fingers sparkle like mad.
You can choose this magic,
Always.
Hannah
Your graceful fingers dance
a graceful melody,
which floats through the air
like a gentle thought
or a warm sweet memory.
Erika
Your music
warms my heart.
You can make
a difference
with your music.
Share a song
with someone
who needs it.
How about today?
Natalie
Your dancing fingers
make my eyes smile.
Your smiling fingers
make my feet dance.
Your laughing fingers
make me sing.
Your happy music
cheers me.
Keep smiling with
your clever fingers.
Connor
Your strong hands
and confident fingers
are gifts to share.
Practice well
so that your gift
will always be
as bright as your smile.
Alijah
You are a queen
inside and out.
Always remember
who you are.
Sit like a queen
and play with
a beautiful hand.
like royalty;
Because you are.
Dylan
Your clever fingers
play with spirit
like the song,
Spiritoso;
with spirit.
Your music is
a gift to share.
Share your spirit
and your music,
Often.
Almond eyes.
Cheeks of pink.
Silky hair; black and sleek.
Her smile lights up her face.
Tiny girl with large heart
and magic fingers.
Her music
makes me
Smile.
Lauren
Lovely Lauren.
Dark eyed beauty.
Her fingers fly.
Her body sways
gracefully.
Her music makes
my heart sing.
Her smile makes
my heart dance.
Lovely Lauren.
Quinn
Handsome Quinn
With eyes so bright
listens carefully to teacher
and follows her lead.
Fingers hug keys
and make the piano sing.
She asks; he responds.
Eliza
Fingers dancing.
Music swirling,
swishing, sailing;
filling the air
with joyous melody
and sweet harmony.
Beautiful sound.
Beautiful heart.
Beautiful girl.
Andrew
Courageous, yet tender.
Caring, but strong.
Sharing your music.
Sharing your song.
Can you play with one hand
starting anywhere?
Can you touch, then take?
You can.
I know you can.
Change isn’t easy,
but worth it.
You are in charge.
Hans
Beethoven’s music
coming from your fingers
warms my heart
and makes me think
happy thoughts.
May you always have
A heart like his.
Jacob
Jacob handsome, Jacob tall.
Your long arms and strong fingers
coax gentle music from
the silent keys.
You are powerful.
You are the master.
Obedient fingers
are your servants.
Zachary
Your fingers dance
to Beethoven’s song,
and make me want
to run and play,
to laugh with you
and share your smile.
Share your music
and your smile
often,
so that others
will laugh and smile
with you.
Ashley
I am so glad
you have become
friends with Bach.
He is my friend, too.
As you share his music
with me,
I feel close to you,
and want to be
your friend.
Ethan
Handsome Ethan.
Small brown boy.
Small brown hands.
Big eyes.
Big heart.
Fingers must move
so the sound
you make
will be as big
as your eyes,
and as big
as your heart.
Rachel
Rachel with the sparkling eyes,
How your sound sparkles today.
Above the keyboard is a magic
place for your clever fingers.
In this magic place
moving fingers sparkle like mad.
You can choose this magic,
Always.
Hannah
Your graceful fingers dance
a graceful melody,
which floats through the air
like a gentle thought
or a warm sweet memory.
Erika
Your music
warms my heart.
You can make
a difference
with your music.
Share a song
with someone
who needs it.
How about today?
Natalie
Your dancing fingers
make my eyes smile.
Your smiling fingers
make my feet dance.
Your laughing fingers
make me sing.
Your happy music
cheers me.
Keep smiling with
your clever fingers.
Connor
Your strong hands
and confident fingers
are gifts to share.
Practice well
so that your gift
will always be
as bright as your smile.
Alijah
You are a queen
inside and out.
Always remember
who you are.
Sit like a queen
and play with
a beautiful hand.
like royalty;
Because you are.
Dylan
Your clever fingers
play with spirit
like the song,
Spiritoso;
with spirit.
Your music is
a gift to share.
Share your spirit
and your music,
Often.
More tomorrow.
Linda Garner
Thursday, February 12, 2009
For the Love of Snews
Since Valentine’s Day is just a few days away, I thought I would share something with my dear friends that is close to my heart. Plus, L.T. talked me into it.
This is something called a SNEW. It stands for Something New Every Week. My creative writing professor made it up (and she is awesome by the way). You see, you are supposed to write something fresh and new to keep your mind hopping with fantabulous ideas. I’m kind of struggling with the every week thing. Is that saying something about my mind?
It doesn’t have to be perfect (that’s my favorite thing). So here is my imperfect SNEW, just for you (Hey! That rhymes!)
My Love
It wasn’t that I wanted to love it. It just that it happened that way.
At first, I didn’t notice it, hanging around on its own, blending into the background. To be honest with you, I didn’t think it was my type. It just seemed so…common.
But then, that day came. The day I totaled my car, lost my job, and my fish ran away.
It was the only one there for me, faithful. Not like that fish.
From then on out, I did notice it. But I didn’t think I’d become addicted to it.
Everywhere I went, I found myself needing it, searching for it. At my parent’s, my friends… even at church, I sought it out. When things got tough, I rushed to it for comfort.
I knew I loved it.
Can you blame me? It’s softness, it’s giving, it’s security, just luring me to it. How could I stay away from it now?
But then one day, it ran out. Wanting to dash from place to place and search for it, I found myself sitting, stuck, unable to leave.
I didn’t understand. Why was it gone so soon? Didn’t I take enough time with it? Did I rub it the wrong way? Was it jealous of that fish?
It was a bitter night when I found myself wondering. Wondering without purpose at the local big-box store, trying to find comfort in generic named items.
With shop cart in tow, I made my way down aisle number five.
My heart sped up, my hands clammy. Could it be? Swallowing back the lump in my throat, my feet inched closer and closer to the display on the far left of me. I couldn’t believe what I saw!
Pastel colors? Two-ply? It was better than I thought.
Rows and rows of towering stacks of toilet paper filled my sight. Warmth flooded over me, hope returned. My love was back. I knew it would never run out again. My roll of toilet paper and me.
It’s really funny if you read it like your playing Hamlet. If you hold an empty toilet roll in your hand, you’ll have them rolling in the aisles! Good times, good times.
Happy Valentines everyone! =)
This is something called a SNEW. It stands for Something New Every Week. My creative writing professor made it up (and she is awesome by the way). You see, you are supposed to write something fresh and new to keep your mind hopping with fantabulous ideas. I’m kind of struggling with the every week thing. Is that saying something about my mind?
It doesn’t have to be perfect (that’s my favorite thing). So here is my imperfect SNEW, just for you (Hey! That rhymes!)
My Love
It wasn’t that I wanted to love it. It just that it happened that way.
At first, I didn’t notice it, hanging around on its own, blending into the background. To be honest with you, I didn’t think it was my type. It just seemed so…common.
But then, that day came. The day I totaled my car, lost my job, and my fish ran away.
It was the only one there for me, faithful. Not like that fish.
From then on out, I did notice it. But I didn’t think I’d become addicted to it.
Everywhere I went, I found myself needing it, searching for it. At my parent’s, my friends… even at church, I sought it out. When things got tough, I rushed to it for comfort.
I knew I loved it.
Can you blame me? It’s softness, it’s giving, it’s security, just luring me to it. How could I stay away from it now?
But then one day, it ran out. Wanting to dash from place to place and search for it, I found myself sitting, stuck, unable to leave.
I didn’t understand. Why was it gone so soon? Didn’t I take enough time with it? Did I rub it the wrong way? Was it jealous of that fish?
It was a bitter night when I found myself wondering. Wondering without purpose at the local big-box store, trying to find comfort in generic named items.
With shop cart in tow, I made my way down aisle number five.
My heart sped up, my hands clammy. Could it be? Swallowing back the lump in my throat, my feet inched closer and closer to the display on the far left of me. I couldn’t believe what I saw!
Pastel colors? Two-ply? It was better than I thought.
Rows and rows of towering stacks of toilet paper filled my sight. Warmth flooded over me, hope returned. My love was back. I knew it would never run out again. My roll of toilet paper and me.
It’s really funny if you read it like your playing Hamlet. If you hold an empty toilet roll in your hand, you’ll have them rolling in the aisles! Good times, good times.
Happy Valentines everyone! =)
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