The fragrance of gardenias greets
me as I walk through the den. I know it’s from the bouquet a friend gave me yesterday.
Yet for a moment, I’m transported back to the living room of a little white
house on Pear Street in the day of open windows and the enormous gardenia bush planted
beneath them.
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Home Sweet Home
610 North Pear Street
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Mother & Lily Fay Fuller
Their friendship dated back to school days |
Is that the murmur of voices and
tinkle of laughter? Of Mother and Daddy visiting with family and friends—maybe even
you—as its heady scent drifts in
on the evening breeze? Once again, I’m that little pitcher with big ears, taking in tidbits of gossip and family history.
If only I’d kept a journal. Then again, perhaps I did.
Like
childish scribbles, precious memories are inscribed upon my heart.
What takes you back in time?
5 I
have thought about the days of old, the years of long ago.
6 I remember my
song in the night. I think with my heart...
Ps. 77:5-6
Labels: Gardenias, Memories of Home, Nostalgia
