Nana and the Book

Nana & the Book

This story was born when I noticed a certain “telling” light in the eyes of little girl and it was carried along in the haunting melody of a song whose words were not necessary; it came to full awareness in fact, when it would not let me go.

Romans 8:11 Yet God raised Jesus to life! God's Spirit now lives in you, and he will raise you to life by his Spirit. (CEV)

She shivered in the grip of a deep chill, even as the sun bore down on her thin shoulders.

Her honeys colored freckles were strewn unevenly over pale cheeks, as though they were confetti tossed in the air and had landed where an irresponsible wind deposited them. She felt her knees quaking as she paused on the path down to the river. She plopped suddenly, with a dull thud, in shelter of a water maple tree; her shattered heart was seeking something, something elusive.

Eyes of amber swarmed with the glaze of unshed tears that rippled across her vision as she gazed over the placid water whose gentle wavelets mimicked the flood that was soon to be washing over her cheeks. The sun had shifted in the dappled shade, and now fully aglow it rested on her little girl face; there was a quick reflection of fire as it bounced off a tear drop tangled in reddish lashes. One thick long braid was casually hiding her spine as it hung lank, in the fragile moment.