for gentle breezes that lift billowy kites to the heavens,
for colorful kites to fly,
watching children at play,
and the waves that pound upon the shore--
for morning sun that bathes a hydrangea in its warmth,
for the dew that sparkles like a million diamonds,
for old churches where our heritages were forged,
For our ancestors who prayed so diligently for us--
For mission trips,
And helping hands--
For all of these I give grateful thanks.
#'s 11-20 in connection with
photo credits
My friend Marianne's grandson Jack-
a hydrangea in my yard
a picture of an old church in NW Arkansas
a picture my granddaughter took in Africa on a mission trip
