

It’s the dead of winter and I’m still raking leaves and collecting branches that the winds have broken and scattered; all of which will eventually be ground into mulch and reused and reclaimed to nourish the soil. I even pick up a few feathers from fallen birds; taking off my gloves to feel the smoothness of the feathers, and to admire the colors and designs in each one.
I see life reflected in nature. Fallen and broken people, crushed and snuffed out by wars. We may never know each one’s vibrant colors, or how they have nourished the soils where they were planted and grew.
I bow my head. A teardrop falls on a patch of snow.
The messy yard reminds me of work to be completed.
Ignore the backache, the strain on the knees, the cramped hands, and the allergies.
Keep going.
Don’t give up.
Don’t get discouraged.
Mercy, like raindrops, washes away the ice and frozen snow. Hints of green peek through. Hope?
I think back to the holiday that just passed and reflect on the Christmas message of, ‘Peace on earth and good will toward men.’ A weight lifts off of my heart. Encouragement strengthens me. I straighten my back and lean into my work. My job’s not done. I have to keep on working and do my part to make my world better than I found it.
Alone in my backyard, I sing a song from my youth.
“Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.”
Veronica Jorge
See you next time on February 22nd!
Every Valentine’s Day chocolate in all shapes and sizes: loose, bagged, heart-shaped boxes, can be found everywhere. Including in my pantry, in the candy dish, on my plate. Well, you get the picture. I like chocolate. (I indulge year round).
Featured Author Veronica Jorge credits her love of history to the potpourri of cultures that make up her own life and to her upbringing in diverse Brooklyn, New York.
It’s the dead of winter and I’m still raking leaves and collecting branches that the winds have broken and scattered; all of which will eventually be ground into mulch and reused and reclaimed to nourish the soil. I even pick up a few feathers from fallen birds; taking off my gloves to feel the smoothness of the feathers, and to admire the colors and designs in each one.
Featured Author Veronica Jorge credits her love of history to the potpourri of cultures that make up her own life and to her upbringing in diverse Brooklyn, New York.
Featured Author Veronica Jorge credits her love of history to the potpourri of cultures that make up her own life and to her upbringing in diverse Brooklyn, New York.
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More info →A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
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I’ve been humming “Let There Be Peace on Earth” since you posted. Great post. Great song.
Thanks, Marianne!
In this fraught world, it is so easy to forget what really matters. I often wonder how and why we’ve lost our simple way. Thank you for a beautiful post, Veronica.
Thank you, Neetu!