Wise Lily Stories
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Hyacinths Galore As I was sitting one spring day in my garden chair I let the breezes gently blow around me without a care. I often like to close my eyes and feel its soft caress But this time there was something new that woke me from my rest! Perfume that was so very strong I felt a little dizzy And then I heard a message from the honey bee so busy... "Oh yes, we have been visiting the hyacinths white and pink We gather nectar from them all, we drink and drink and drink! And sometimes we can even feel a little bit topsy turvy The fragrance strong it makes us fly a little bit soft and swirvy. The hyacinths they all do come from Persian lands of old The prophets and the poets sing their praises bright and bold. One poem that sweetly says it all tells of its treasures fine How its flowers fill the soul with beauty so sublime." And this is the proverb of old... 'If I had two loaves of bread, I'd sell one and with the dole I'd buy a blooming hyacinth for it would feed my soul.' And as I listened to the bee, I pondered of beauty and art I need them every single day to feed my growing heart. Thank you bee and thank you flower for your hidden story I always greet you in the spring with joyful endless glory! written by Christine Summerfield
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"I'm getting old" says tired old tree Who will come and visit me? I'll settle in before winter comes And lean towards the setting sun. It was the month of December on the shores of Silver Lake. Crystals twinkled and sprinkled on the water. George walked through the garden in his shiny red boots. He was used to hearing all kinds of sounds in the garden, birds singing and squirrels chirping, but now, all was quiet and still. The was a gentle hush in the garden as it was now falling asleep. Inside the house, his mother was busy baking cookies and simmering hot apple cider. George could smell the cinnamon and nutmeg all throughout the house. He loved a hot cup of cider after walking outside all day in the cold, crisp air. "This is a time for giving to others" she would say. " A time to make gifts and share them with our family and friends." Even though it was hard, he learned to share his favorite cookies with his neighbors and friends. How he delighted to see their smiling faces as they opened up a tin of star-shaped cookies. As George wandered through the garden, he poked about here and there with his favorite walking stick. He looked for worms and beetles and bugs, but could not find any. Most of the birds had flown away for the winter. Even the busy squirrels were not there to wiggle their fluffy tails at him, inviting him to play. All was quiet. And to add to the hush of this time of year, there was not much color in the garden. All of the blossoms had faded and the bulbs lay asleep under the ground until spring. He could see brown on the barks of the trees and grey in the sky. But the evergreens did shine bright. The cedars, spruces, and pines filled his heart with joy. "I never really noticed you before in the spring and summer" he said to them with a smile. "Now that all is brown, I can see your bright green needles." Just then, George heard a sound above him. It was a cackling and a crackling. Two big brother crows flapped their wings and then "whoosh!" they flew away towards the shore. As George looked up, he saw the tree that the black birds were in.It was Grandfather Cottonwood Tree, his favorite tree that he had climbed last year for the very first time. But now, there were no leaves on this tree.It was bare, brown and dry. George saw new things he had never noticed before about the tree. "I never noticed how big your trunk was before" he said to the tree. How strong and mighty you are! The tree stretched and yawned and leaned down towards the ground as if to settle down for a long winter's nap. George ran his soft small hands along the trunk of the tree."Oh, how rough and dry you are!" he said. He looked and saw no nests in the tree. There were no birds, or animals to be found. Then George began to wonder. "I don't see any animals here around you. I wonder if you are lonely" he said to the tree. "I have family and friends and neighbors to play with. Perhaps you too would like some friends." George thought about the Christmas tree that hung so proudly in his home. It was decorated with all kinds of fancy things-shiny glitter, candles, apples and a gold star at the top. There were even a few red robins that his mother had stitched out of wool felt. He loved looking at that tree each night and watching it twinkle in the darkness. That tree was magic. And then, George got an idea. It was a special idea. He ran to the garden shed and got his little willow basket, some scissors and some twine. Then he walked through the garden, looking for little treasures. "There IS still some color left!" he said as he snipped some fat, red rose hips and some long juniper branches full of purple blue berries. He also snipped some red vines that had dried black berries and an evergreen vine with white berries. He even cut some cedar sprigs and a few pine boughs with pinecones till on them. "Oh, there's LOTS to see this time of year in the garden!" he exclaimed. And he kept filling his basket until it was full to the brim. And then George tip toed into his mother's sewing room and gathered some colorful tufts of wool and some pretty threads from her scrap basket. And in the kitchen, he quietly took one red apple from the bowl on the dining room table. He polished it and made it shine brightly. "Now I have something to give to another!" he said to himself as he walked out the door. George skipped to the Grandfather Cottonwood tree and emptied his basket of treasures on the ground. "See?" he said to the tree. "These are all for you! You have given so much to me in all of the seasons. I have climbed you in the spring, took naps under your summer shade and played peek a boo in your autumn leaves. Now I want to give back to you!" George carefully cut pieces of string and tied them to the vines, branches and sprigs. One by one, he strung them along the lower branches of the tree. The berries looked just like a string of colored lights shining in the sun. "And here" he said, as he squeezed the soft cedar needles. "See how good this smells? Just like the cookies baking in our house, you too can smell the cedar from this bough." The old tree bent down as if to take in the fragrance of the fresh greenery. Then, George spread little tufts of colored wool in the hollow of the tree, as if to make a wee nest. He strung the scraps of pretty threads in the branches and they blew softly in the gentle breeze. He place the red apple among his twisting roots. The shiny red could easily be seen against the brown on the bark. "There!" he said. Now you too are quite fancy, just like the Christmas tree in our house!" The old tree admired the colors that hung from his branches. Just then, a handsome blue jay landed on his branch and nibbled on some of the berries. And soon after, brother squirrel hopped over and started to nibble on the apple. The old tree listened to the squirrel's stories of all the friends he had met that day on his adventures on Silver Lake. And as the sun was setting, a sleepy mother mouse arrived with her 3 babies and they curled up in the little woolly nest. Grandfather tree now had many friends. The old tree was no longer lonely. He was happy to be with his newly found friends, the bird, the squirrel and the family of mice. George knew the tree was content. Once again, he rubbed his soft, white hands along the tree's bark as if to say "Merry Christmas dear friend." The tree nodded in return in silent reply as if to say "Thank you George. You have given me the best gift of all. The gift of companionship." Later that night, as George entered his home, he put his little red boots to dry by the fire and smiled to himself as he thought of Grandfather Cottonwood tree, surrounded by his new friends. He imagined the tree was smiling inside, just as George was too. How happy he was to give back to the old tree. "I am old" says tired old tree There was a time when I was young and free Thank you George, for your treasures fine You truly are a friend of mine." written by Christine Summerfield-December 2017 Anthony's Gift Once upon a time, there lived a little boy named Anthony. He lived in a small house by the sea, with his mother, father and two older brothers. His home was just outside a tiny village named Amalfi in a land called Italy. Every child has something special about the day on which they were born. Anthony was born on November 11, the same day as Saint Martin. And so, as they shared the same birthday, Saint Martin was always very special to Anthony.Every year, on the eve of his birthday, his parents would tell him the story of Saint Martin, of how he was a soldier in the Roman army hundreds of years ago and how he rode a magnificent white horse.He carried a sword by his side and wore a great cloak made of velvet. Anthony loved to hear of how Martin entered the gates of a great city in northern France one cold, autumn evening.When Martin saw a hungry and cold beggar at the gates, he was deeply moved with compassion.He wanted to help the poor man. He swiftly jumped off his horse, removed his cloak, and with one swift stroke, cut his cloak in two and lovingly shared his coat with the beggar. Some people made fun of him, but Martin paid them no heed. Anthony especially liked the next part of the story where Martin was visited by his angel that night, commending him on his deed of kindness for others.. After that, Martin left the Roman army and became a man who wanted to work for peace and do kind deeds for others. On the night before his seventh birthday, Anthony laid in bed, thinking about good Martin and his kind heart. "I want to be like him!" Anthony exclaimed. "I want to share something that I have with others too. But what do I have? I don't have a big horse or a fancy cape. I am only a little boy, with my silver dog, Gypsy." As he drifted off to sleep, he left his question deep in the wings of his angel, hoping for an answer to come the next morning. That night, Anthony was visited by his angel.The radiance of the light filled his whole room and he felt warmed through and through. The angel spoke softly to Anthony. "You too have a gift to share with others " said the angel. "You have the gift of music. Your task in life will be to play your violin for people. The joy with which you play will open the hearts of those who hear your music. All kinds of people will love your music, but especially the children. When you play, the children will come to you and will love you.Go out into the darkness of the world and shine forth the light of your music. You will never be alone. I will be with you always and the stars will forever shine down and smile upon you." The old people of the village know of a wise saying that goes..."the morning is wiser than the night." That morning, the day of his seventh birthday, Anthony awoke with the answer to his question and a determined will. "I know just what to do!" he said to himself. He made a little round lantern out of paper and glue. It was deep blue, like the sky at night. Then, he cut little windows for the light to shine through. The windows were the shape of stars. He glued shiny golden paper behind each window. After it dried, he carefully placed a little candle inside. It was as warm as a sunbeam in there! Anthony smiled to himself as he thought of laughing stars. Out of the leftover golden paper, he even made a collar for his dog, Gypsy and he lovingly wrapped it around his neck.Gypsy licked his hand as if to say "thank you!" That night, when the sky turned dark, and the stars came out to play, Anthony walked out to the town square with his lantern, his violin and his faithful companion, Gypsy. He was not afraid, as he remembered the words of his angel "I will be with you always." He lit his lantern and opened his violin case. Gypsy admired his own starry collar and then watched Anthony play his violin. He played every song he knew and he played his very best. He played with a purity that made the angels smile down in admiration. His favorite song of all was Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.He knew so many different ways to play this song that he never tired of it. The more he played, the more brightly his little lantern would glow. Suddenly, the people in the village heard this wondrous music and they opened their windows to listen. They asked "who is playing this beautiful music?" They all left their homes, the young and the old, and slowly entered the square. One by one, they smiled to see a little boy, playing violin to his heart's content, with his dog at his side. Just as the light of the angel filled his room the night before, the joy of the music filled the hearts of all the towns' people that very night. Some people tapped their feet, some danced and twirled while others just sat and listened. Many children exclaimed "I want to play music like that too!" Anthony returned home that night with Gypsy, content and satisfied. "Now I know what I am here to do" he said to himself. From that day on, he played his little violin each and every day. And just as he grew bigger over time, so did his violin, and so did the capacity of his heart. when he grew up, he continued to share his love of music with others. He played by himself and he played in groups. He played at festivals, on street corners and in the quiet beauty of nature. He played in temples and in schools. Little children came to him and he loved to teach the children how to play the violin. Later on in his life, he even had a teacher by the name of Mr. Starr. Anthony smiled as he remembered the collar of stars around his boyhood dog, Gypsy. Then one day, Anthony had so many students, he started his own little school. He called it the Star School and he shared his love of music with children all the days of his life. People everywhere came to experience his open heart and joyful smile as he played his beloved violin.Like good Martin, he too had found a way to shine his light into the darkness of the world. And his favorite song to this very day is still Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. written by Christine Summerfield- November 2017
Now that autumn time is here and days are growing cold Colors change from deepest green to orange, red and gold In my house I put away all my curtains of lace And hang up curtains of heavy wool to cozy up my place. And I put away my clothes of linen and cotton light And don my woolly sweaters to keep me warm throughout the night. But in the garden I aslo like to make a cozy nest For a special kind of plant that's different than the rest... They are bulbs round and plump and planted in the fall They sleep in soil deep and dark until they hear the call Of the robins who return with their song in spring......... Waking up the garden...how they love to sing! The first bulbs that will wake up are the Snow Drops white You will find them on bended knee, they are a gentle sight. Then the crocus open up to the spring time sun They have little strings of gold inside each flowery one That offer food to honey bees, who land inside their cups They gather pollen from inside, how they feast and sup! And then the yellow daffodils stand up straight and tall They look like golden trumpets announcing spring time's call! And oh, the tulips then arrive in colors of every kind They too look like a chalice, so elegant and refined. As I plant these autumn bulbs in the cool, dark earth I think about their winter's sleep and about their birth. And then I say a little prayer to the Father Sun To shine upon them through the cold and protect each little one. And as I sit in my cozy chair with my blanket warm I'll think of bulbs all fast asleep midst the winter's storm. And sing them a sweet lullaby with a rum tee dum tee dum While they dream of dresses new in spring time days to come. written by Christine Summerfield/October 11, 2017
I often like to share with you my love for plants so green But I have another love that often goes unseen. I have other kinds of friends, big and small and round Smooth or jagged, straight or flat, they do not make a sound. Behold the stones so old and wise, a wonder to behold. Strong and dependable, their stories slowly unfold. So come along and take my hand and walk a bit with me And meet my friends, the ancient ones, so many we can see. First, there are the travel stones that greet you at my home They come from France and Italy, Switzerland and Rome. Next there are the glossy ones found by my family From the shores of Kootenay Lake in beautiful BC! Right beside them are the ones shaped just like a heart Gathered over many years, Nature's perfect art! And when you walk along the back to a place small but wild Shells and crystals all love here, placed by a little child. They are gifts for fairies small, a simple offering They like to curl up tight in them and softly sweetly sing! And even a little school you'll find when you bend down low A painted stone with colors bright, hidden way down below. Across from it a Mother Stone sits under the Viburnum tree She is named Grandmother Stone and sits there happily. Her husband is not far away, the Grandfather of them all He takes you to my comfy chair where you can hear the call Of finches, robins and chickadees who land on sturdy rocks Placed in the bird bath carefully, where they can drink and talk! They land on the stepping stones in the water clear They drink and bathe there all day long, they are so sweet and dear. Then get up and walk some more to the sunny side More stones do line the garden bed, where they happily abide. The path will bring you to a place where neighbors like to meet Two flat stones form a bridge for our happy feet. All these stones are treasures, they are my dearest friends They've been here since the beginning of time, they'll be here 'til the end. Perhaps you too will find some stones sitting in the ground Waiting patiently for you, without making a sound. Pick one up and say hello and feel it in your hand It might just have a story to tell of the earth and sky and sand. And it just might become your friend and share a lesson or two Of patience, strength and stability, fidelity oh so true. And put it in a special place to honor it with love You will give it happiness, a gift from high above. written by Christine Summerfield
October 8, 2017 Daisies of the Fall
As I was slowly walking by one September day I saw a burst of royal colors along the garden way. It was not the usual feast of red and orange and gold But it was brightest purple, a wonder to behold. I stopped to look at these flowers with their centers of gold They stood so tall and regal, like kings and queens of old. They were full of honey bees, gathering the last of their food Before retiring to their hives for winter's sleepy mood. And another winged friend gently landed down A Painted Lady butterfly with wings of rust and brown. My oh my, how full of life you are in my garden green You bring such beauty to me now, a gift I've never seen And as I stopped to wonder at this colorful sight A regal voice called to me in the autumn light... "Oh yes, we are the Michaelmas Daisy, we bloom here in the fall We are no ordinary daisy, we wait for the trumpet call All the other daisies bloom in the summer light They have a sweet simplicity, of softness and of white. But we are royal violet in the glorious sun Standing tall with Michael, with a message for everyone:" When you stop and look at us, courage you will find In Michaelmas daisies, strong and true in the autumn time. written by christine Summerfield October 5, 2017 Last of the Summer Lace
Now that autumn time is here and days are growing cold Colors in the garden change from green to red and gold I take my lacy curtains down and put them all away Until the spring when when sun grows strong in the month of May. And now I hang my winter curtains, soft and woolly and warm They keep my little house safe against the winter's storm. But as I looked outside my window, midst the last of the garden green Another kind of summer lace could easily be seen Strings of flowers small and white reaching to the sun Climbed along my wooden fence, how happily they did run! I walked over to the sight and listened for a while And then a message soft and sweet gave me a little smile... "Oh yes, we are the special vine called the "Silver Lace" We bring a little joy to you with simplicity and grace. In summer, all the other flowers do put on a show But we keep climbing quietly, we grow and grow and grow! And then when autumn colors change and Michaelmas arrives It finally is our turn to bloom, the Silver Lacy Vine Although we look quite delicate with tiny flowers white Our vine is strong and sturdy, we really are quite a sight!" And then a summer memory came slowly drifting by Of dreamy lacy curtains white, blowing with a gentle sigh I said a 'thank you' to the vine for gifting me with grace A simple white delicacy...., the last of the Summer Lace. The Letter "V" I've many friends whose name begins with the letter V They live inside my garden green, come along and see! One is purple and creeps along in clumps along the ground She is named Veronica her shape is low and round. Another plant of purple hues you'll find on bended knee Is Violet who grows in the grass full of fragrance sweet. And then there's tall Valerian all dressed in lacy white She stands up straight and opens wide her petals to the light. And don't forget the vines that grow along my fence and wall Virginia Creeper with leaves of green that turn red in the fall. Sweet Ivy is a sturdy vine with a V in the middle of her name She likes the shade and fills the wall around my window frame. And then a last surprise that stood in my maple tree The grandest letter of them all, a great big letter "V"! So when you walk along my path, my dear friends you will see
Violet, Virginia, Veronica, Ivy and Valerie! The Secrets of the Dandelions Once upon a time, there lived a little girl named Aurelia. She lived with her mother in a little yellow house with a big, green garden. Her mother was a wise gardener and she knew of the secrets of the plants that lived in their garden. No matter the weather, Aurelia loved to play outside. There was always something to do and discover in the garden. Her little cat Goldy would walk beside her and together they would play. Now, it was spring time. The sun warmed the earth and the days grew longer. New green plants were sprouting up each day. Oh, how good it felt to touch the earth again with her bare feet! Aurelia and Goldy wandered out each day to see what was new. One morning, in the month of April, Aurelia saw a carpet of bright, yellow flowers dotting the green grass. The dandelions were back and they were a sign of spring. How she loved the dandelions! She bent down to look at them more closely. They were round and their golden petals rayed out from the middle. "Ooh!" she cried with delight. "You look like little wee suns! Round and yellow and bright. You make me so happy!" She ran inside the house to fetch her favorite, yellow cape. She put it on and proceeded through the yellow speckled grass like a queen. Then, she twirled and danced a little dandelion dance. Goldy loved the sun too. He rolled on her back in the grass and soaked up the sunshine as Aurelia sang a little song: Dandelions everywhere You are so much fun Bright and round and yellow Shining like the sun! That spring, Aurelia became good friends with the dandelions. At night, before sleep, she would tip toe out to the grass and leave little gifts for the dandelion faeries. She would give them tiny crumbs of honey cake in a sea shell or even a little blanket that she stitched from her basket of sewing scraps. In the morning, she would put on her cape and lay out a quilt in the dandelion patch. She would dress up her dollies and have fancy tea parties in the spring time sunshine. Her mother joined her and showed her something fun to do. "Every queen needs a royal crown" she declared. "Let's make one together." So they picked handfuls of long stemmed dandelions and Aurelia's mother made a little hole in the middle of each stem. "You can use your thumb nail" she said. "then you can weave the next stem inside. Do this over and over until you have a crown that fits your head. Just the right size!" Aurelia watched her mother weave the stems. She tried her hand at it and caught on quickly. While they worked, they sang their little song.. Dandelions everywhere You are so much fun Bright and round and yellow Shining like the sun! And before they knew it, they had woven their crowns! They put them on their heads and smiled. Aurelia made tiny crowns for her dollies. She even made one for Goldy. They drank fresh peppermint tea and had a royal tea-time! The dandelions bloomed on and on and . Aurelia could pick as many as she wanted. "Be sure to leave some for the honey bees" her mother reminded her. Her mother let the dandelions grow freely all over the grass for she knew that the bees loved to gather pollen from them to make their sweet, golden honey.As Aurelia watched the honey bees do their work, she could see their legs grow fat with the fluffy, yellow pollen stuck to their legs. She picked bouquets of violets and dandelions for the supper table each night but made sure to leave plenty for the honey bees. It seemed like her golden friends would bloom forever, but, as time passed, there were less and less of the sunny blossoms. The flowers were closing up at the top. They looked like little bundles all wrapped up tight. There was only a tiny tip of yellow at the top of each one. "Hmm" she wondered. "It looks as if they are going to sleep. I wonder what will become of them? " she said to herself. Her mother, who was gathering dandelion leaves to add to their salad for lunch, overheard Aurelia's question but she quietly kept on with her work. Aurelia felt a little bit sad. She missed her sunny friends. "Where did they go?" she asked her mother. "Will I ever see them again?" Her mother smiled and gently put her arm around Aurelia's shoulder. She knew of the secrets of the plants in her garden, but she wanted her daughter to discover this treasure for herself. "Wait and see my dear. Something new will come" was her reply. And she walked off to tend to her roses. Aurelia watched as all the dandelions closed up. There was a quiet hush in the garden. "Perhaps they are only going to sleep" she said. "It's hard to just wait and see, like mother says." She remembered how hard it was to wait the night before her fifth birthday. She knew that a special package awaited her in golden wrapping on the kitchen table the night before, but she had to wait until the next morning to open it up. By now, each sleeping dandelion had grown a fuzzy white tuft on top. Aurelia touched them with her finger tips. "Ooh, they are soft" she said. "Soft and white. I wonder why they are changing colors?" She waited and watched until one morning, they began to open up. "Oh my" she said. "They are waking up, but now, they look different!" Everywhere were round, white globes across the green grass. They were not sturdy like the yellow flowers. They were soft and delicate, kind of like a dream. Aurelia bent down to look more closely. "You don't look like a sun anymore" she said to them. "You look like the moon up in the night sky. The same moon I say goodnight to each night before sleep." And she made up a new song and sang it to her fluffy friends. Dandelions everywhere Silvery, white balloons Dreamy, soft and round You look just like the moon And this time, she danced a little more softly. Her soft cat purred and rubbed against her leg. "I think you like the moon dance as much as the sun dance!" she said to Goldy. Just then, her mother joined her. She plucked a dandelion stem and put it close to her mouth. She closed her eyes and waited a moment. Then, she blew with all her might and tiny seeds flew away in a cloud of silver. "I just made a wish" said her mother. "You can make one too. And now that the dandelions have made their little seeds, you can pick as many as you like!" And so, Aurelia spent the days picking the delicate globes and making dandelion wishes. She made wishes for her family, her friends and the honey bees. Her most special wish was that the dandelions would return the next spring. Just then, Brother Wind blew his big breath and a cloud of tiny seeds blew all around her! Goldy jumped up to try and catch a flying seed. When Aurelia caught one, she had to hold it carefully between her tiny fingers. She cried with wonder "My stars! Just when I thought you could not change again, now I see another special thing about you!" Each tiny seed looked like a little star. When they swirled around her and filled the air, they looked the starry sky at night. She called her mother to share what she had just discovered. "Mother" she called. "I have one more song for the dandelions. Come and sing with me." Her mother joined her and they danced in the garden as Brother Wind blew the starry seeds all around them. And together they sang Dandelions everywhere Your seeds go near and far You travel all around the world You look like tiny stars! And so, that spring, Aurelia found out about watching, waiting and wondering in the garden. Her mother and her now shared the secrets of the dandelions...that they indeed were just like the sun, the moon and the stars.
written by Christine Summerfield, April 2017 As I sat in my rocking chair with my morning cup of tea
The sun poured through my window bright and what did I then see? Underneath the pine tree tall was grass all green and lush It had rained all through the night, a carpet soft and plush. Puddles lay all through the grass, like a land of little lakes The sun was shining on them all-not a peep did the water make. Until I heard a gentle sound of wings all-a-flutter Two robins hopped along the green, and playfully chased each other. They flew together up and down, like the bow of a happy fiddle Until at last they dove right in and jumped inside the middle! They splished and splashed in the water bright, enjoying their morning bath They brought a smile to my face, how they made me laugh! And just as quickly as they came, the birds away they flew And dried their wings in the morning sun by drops of sparkling dew. So when you take your morning walk, and your boots are all a muddle The simplest joy you may find there in a spring time watery puddle! written by Christine Summerfield April 2017 |
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