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Common Bond

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“There is a child inside each one of us, who comes out in front of the person we are most comfortable with…”

A big tease…

Okay, C.L. Gillmore Fans! I know I’m being a big tease but just read the prologue and first three chapters of the sequel novel, One Final Season…LOVE IT!! Truly!!!!!!!! You’re in for a huge treat AND I think I like this even better than the first one. I’m hooked and need more. Mean? Yes, but I don’t think it’ll be long before we all get to read the whole book! Whoo-Hoo! Nice work, Cheryl! A privilege to call you friend. Bravo!

Deborah Summers

Rhubarb leaf hats…

~Excerpt from “Childhood Sanctuary” by C L Gillmore

“I leave the stone steps behind and follow the well-worn path deeper into the backyard as it meanders beneath the blossoming apple, pear and persimmon trees. I feel the wind in my hair as pink and white blossoms rain down on me and cover the path beneath my feet.

I stop, close my eyes and daydream.

I am the princess bride, dressed in a long, lacy white gown, walking down the aisle to meet my prince. He is tall and handsome and dressed in lovely clothes. He sweeps me up onto his white horse and carries me far away. We live happily ever after.

Dreamers always live happily ever after.

Smiling, I open my eyes and continue walking the blossom-covered path that ends at the rhubarb patch. Grandpa calls it rhubarb. Grandma calls it pie plant. Maybe it’s because she makes really yummy strawberry-rhubarb pies from it.

The big clumps of rhubarb grow in two, long staggered lines, one in front of the other. The thick red stalks look like celery and each is topped with a huge, dark green ruffled leaf. Grandpa says the leaves are poisonous and never to eat them…so instead, I make lovely, giant rhubarb leaf hats for me and Grandma and the cat.”

Asparagus picking…

~Excerpt from “Childhood Sanctuary” by C L Gillmore

“Five large stepping-stones lead from the trumpet vine down a gentle slope  to the neighbor’s yard. The stones are rough and uneven beneath my bare  feet as I jump on each one and count—one, two, three, four, five—making sure I bring both feet together on each step. Jump down, count and back up. Jump down, count and back up.

That’s the only rule for this game. A simple game that only takes one to play. Me.

Next to the stone steps, mixed in with the tall grass, lavender blue bells, yellow dandelions and blue Sweet Williams are hundreds of asparagus shoots poking up through the ground like little green soldiers snapped to attention.

When the asparagus is just right, Grandma points to the ones that are ready with one hand, while opening and closing her gathered apron skirt with the other. I bend and snap the stalks close to the ground and then carefully drop each one into her out-stretched apron. She points. I snap and drop. We do this together until her apron is filled with asparagus.

These are the rules for asparagus picking. I like this game better than jumping the stepping-stones because it takes two… Grandma and me.”

I Still Remember…

~Excerpt from “Childhood Sanctuary” by C L Gillmore

In a row next to the forsythia bushes are several clusters of peonies, in pink, rose and white. I stop, bend down and cup one of the multi-petaled flowers between my hands and inhale. The perfume is sweet…permeating and envelops my face like an evaporation of sugar water. Black ants crawl over the unopened buds and onto my fingers and hands. I shake them off. Grandma told me they were good ants because they help to open the hard, round buds each spring so the flowers can bloom—those hard, round buds I cut off one morning to make pretend soup.

I gathered things from Grandma’s kitchen that morning…shears and a round blue and white enamel dishpan. Inside the dishpan I placed a long-handled metal spoon, two soup bowls, two soup spoons, two tea cups, two cloth napkins and an embroidered dishtowel…and headed out toward the peony bushes. I cut off each round bud with the shears and dropped them into the big dishpan, added water from the garden hose and mixed it with that big metal spoon. I tried a pretend taste and added some pretend salt and pepper. Delicious.

I carried two wooden lawn chairs from the back porch and dragged an old metal washtub from Grandpa’s shed for our table and arranged them under the persimmon tree with the washtub in the middle and a chair on each side. I covered the washtub with the dishtowel, set the peony bud soup in the middle with the big metal spoon resting inside of the pan. Then I placed a soup bowl, napkin, soup spoon and teacup on opposite sides of the washtub…and went to get my grandma.

There were no beautiful peonies to see or touch or smell that particular spring. But I remember Grandma smiled and told me how lovely everything looked and tasted as we sat under the backyard persimmon tree and shared my peony bud soup. She made me smile too.”

The Leader in Me

Everyone can be a leader in his or her own way
By helping others do their best through what we do or say.
It doesn’t really matter just how we look or talk
Or if we’re in a wheelchair, or if others help us walk.
Just by simply being here we help those around us see
That by gladly serving others we can find the leader in me.

~from Of Roots, Shoes and Rhymes by C L Gillmore

Little Special Boy

Little did I know that a year or so ago
A little special boy would bring my life such joy.
He started out shy, but as the days went by
He worked his magic from the start and stepped into my heart.
“How’s your dog Stanley?” he’d say.  “And where’s your husband today?”
And I became his forever fan when he announced, “I’m Basketman!”
For me he had made each day so bright, a truly little sweet delight!
A shooting star from up above who trailed to earth to share his love.
And now he’ll always be a part of me and forever I will see
His sweet face, filled with joy, this little special boy.

Poem from “Of Roots, Shoes and Rhymes”

by ~ CL Gillmore

“Common Bond”

 
“Common Bond”
from OF ROOTS, SHOES and RHYMES

The shadowed streaks of twilight slip silently away
And tuck behind the mountains to mark another day.
Now leaving just the night sounds to whisper and remind
… Of magical trips and trusted friends, lost and left behind.

To a time when only dreams had the power to transcend
And bring us together, beyond the unrest, one by one as friends.
Kindred souls, sharing a moment, bound by love and freedom.
Moved by the words and music…we danced to a different drum.

Those days and nights are forever etched deep within my heart.
I see their faces, hear their voices, though so many years apart.
Their love and friendship, counsel and humor, are a part of what I say.
And nudge me now so gently with thoughts I write each day.

I wish I would have realized those many years ago
Our moment was just an instant in the lives we were to know.
I could have brushed a farewell kiss as I gazed into each face.
But one by one, we left not knowing we had shared our last embrace.

Excerpt from A Friend Request, sequel novel to Uncommon Bond

Excerpt from A Friend Request, sequel novel to Uncommon Bond~

Once a week, very early, sometimes before the sun was even up, the city garbage truck rattled down that alley with two ragtag men clinging on either side of the bumper in back. The men jumped down, banging the dented metal garbage cans and lids at each stop, and emptied the smelly contents into the awaiting truck. Then they hopped back on, pounded the side of the truck a couple of times with their fists and shouted to the driver who then rumbled on to the next stop, the next house down the alley.

As strange as it seemed, there was something comforting when I heard those noisy men and the garbage truck on that early morning route. Routine familiarity. Security in knowing that the night and the darkness were over and a new morning filled with light was beginning.

I felt a sense of relief in knowing I was safely through the night. Another night my friends kept me safe once again.

It’s interesting what a child remembers and what a child forgets, or tries to.