Bella

Last April, a friend of mine drove the thirteen hours from Southern California to San Francisco to drop off a tortoise.  I like them, you see, and my friend doesn't because tortoises hiss.  Easy to see that being hissed at every morning might not inspire a bonding experience.  Especially in situations where the hisser is foisted on one by the care-taker family member moving out.  And they do have a bit of a cold look to their eye.

I don't mind the steely look or the breathy statements, nor the six months it took Bella (renamed in the first week--they thought she was a boy and I would be insulted as well if I'd been named after a teenage mutant ninja turtle) to warm up enough to recognize me as her food source.  And let me tell you, Bella is a foodie.  She is ecstatic about fresh garden roses.  She sucks up dandelion greens like they're pasta, will take an occasional nasturtium blossom, and destroys romaine leaves.

I consider this, and her interest in my socks when she visits in the kitchen, to be signs of her personality blooming.  Which brings me to the point of sharing this fortuitous little event in my life:

There will always be times when things arrive unsolicited on our doorstep.  We can consider them the gods cursing us, or we can dig deep and find the joy and the love in them.  Remembering as well that when we ask for help in that prayerful way of connecting with the light that guides us, we will be given all the help we need.

Wishing you days filled with fresh roses and endless delicious greens--
Bella and Maureen