I baked focaccia, fresh sprigs of rosemary from the garden pushed into the dough, and took a chunk to my neighbour. Some days later she appeared at my door with a pot of chives. I baked teacakes and handed her some over the garden fence. A few days passed before she came with a dish of salad leaves, washed and laid out with the deepest care and attention. I took strawberries, she brought a bulb of garlic. I took blackcurrants, she brought bouquets of sweet peas. I took scones, she brought a bowl of pineapple and ice-cream. I took lettuce and spinach, she brought a slice of hot frittata. And then there was the day she brought a lily that filled the house with heaven for days. And thus we wove our web of food and flowers and friendship; of the lives we wanted and the world we hoped for.
Love and courage,
Yes so true.
Even beyond the grave, I planted a “Peace” Rose for my Dad, and a beautiful pure purple flowering shrub with silver leaves. Today I cut a rose and put it in a bottle on my kitchen table.
I planted these in remembrance of my father and there they are giving my life colour, beauty and fragrance.
I have a beautiful image in my mind’s eye of the rose in the bottle on your kitchen table. It makes me smile to think of you lovingly planting the rose and shrub in remembrance of your father Francesca. Sending much love to you sweet soul. xx
The exchange of simple gifts that fill the senses and delivered with love is wonderful!
It is, isn’t it Bonnie!