The Picnic

I remember that picnic in Provence. Two daughters, my husband and I. We'd spent the day exploring, by car, the twisting vista rich roads of the South of France and hunger was fast approaching. Lavender fields competed with sunflowers in beauty and quantity. Our hearts were full, but our stomaches needed some attention. We drove into the cobbled streets, parked the rental car and begin the exploration of the enchanting town of Sault, Provence.

Boulle players, quietly discussing their art, bikers in tight outfits, lounging around for a mid-day rest and refueling of their human machines during this time of the Tour de France. Bikers were everywhere during our stay in France.

An Authentic Life

This is a writing that I was invited to publish on the Childlight USA site:

ChildlightUSA

Instrument of Peace - Prayer of St. Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury,pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.


O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen