A Scrapbook of Stories

I came in November

I came in November....

My brothers spoke that phrase today in the car and something about it made me retreat to the enchanted realm within my mind and wonder what the significance of it was...such a beautiful beginning to...what? I knew not. It needed music, it needed a song. It needed a beginning.

As I sit on the front porch swing and gaze into the silence of the dusk I whisper the words,

"I came in November..."

A Gentle breeze flows by and the wind chimes tinkle.

"Who?" I ask softly. "Who comes in November? Why do they come? Who are they looking for?"

All that I have for an answer are the rustling leaves of the maple tree forest that surrounds our house, and the tinkling of the windchimes.

As I bring this entry to an end, I will close my leather bound book, gaze up into the starry sky, almost hidden by the trees, and then retreat to my den and pray for all to be revealed.....



GOD BLESS YOU AND YOUR DAY!

"Faith tells us what the senses cannot, but it is not contrary to their findings. It simply transcends, without contradicting them."--Blaise Pascal
Jessica