Happiness is a gift and the trick is not to expect it, but to delight in it when it comes.
The House By The Side of The Road
Let me live in a house by the side of the road, Where the race of men go by—
The men who are good and the men who are bad, As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner’s seat, Or hurl the cynic’s ban;—
Let me live in a house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.
I see from my house by the side of the road, By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope, The men who are faint with the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears— Both parts of an infinite plan;—
Let me live in my house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.
I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead And mountains of wearisome height;
And the road passes on through the long afternoon And stretches away to the night.
But still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice, And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road Like a man who dwells alone.
Let me live in my house by the side of the road Where the race of men go by—
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
Wise, foolish—so am I.
Then why should I sit in the scorner’s seat
Or hurl the cynic’s ban?—
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
Sam Walter Foss.
“With such glad dreams I sought this holy place,
And now with wondering eyes and heart I stand
Before this supreme mystery of Love:
A kneeling girl with passionless pale face,
An angel with a lily in his hand,
And over both with outstretched wings the Dove.”
By: Oscar Wilde
Excerpt from: Ave Maria Plena Gratia
If you don’t know where you’re going any road will do
If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I could walk through my garden forever.