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Gratefulness
I open the front door and walk headlong into the oh so heavenly scent of onions sautéing on the stove. Of course, growing up we would have said “frying” but onions speak all languages. The aroma is the same and the groundedness is the same. It is the subfloor upon which the precious hardwood is laid, the canvas on which the masterpiece is painted, the staff on which the opera is charted, the ink with which the poem is written, the bass note in the broth.
Posted with kind permission of the author.
This ode was among more than 100 responses to our invitation to write an ode to an “ordinary thing.” We share it here with delight and gratitude.
More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor’s…
What would you do if you really knew that life was wanting to sing through…
Thank you for this day made of wind and rain and sun and the scent…
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We are delighted to announce the release of Kristi Nelson’s book Wake Up Grateful