He opens the radio then scouts through the old books trying to find some easy read
for the night. It is then that the old bible seems to find him between curiosity and
open animosity. He perches himself at the edge of the bed and opens the old
tattered bible. A tiny piece of paper falls out of it's jacket. Gran's loose scribble
comes into view in loopy flourish. She predicts the future with her Italian cryptic poetry.
Nonna Beata was a woman who had grown up right after the war ended. Her mothers frugality had served her well. Like her mother before here she never wasted anything. When he was little he recalls going to her house and having a bath with water that barely touched his knees and a sliver of soap that was no thicker then a piece of host. She'd holler behind a door, "Attentione, puoco fa molto" a little does alot. When Reggie left her house he'd be walkin' home with a doggie bag full of left overs, and a hug so genuine it left the soul of him warm for days to come. His finger lingered on an ear marked page.
Deuteronomy 28:12
The Lord will open to you his good treasury, the heavens, give rain to your land in its season and bless all the work of your hands. You shall lend to nations, but you shall not borrow.
I'm enjoying this. It is encouraging and has just enough mystery to bend my ears. I remember not having much as a child and your writing is pretty much like my life. Lol!
(Richard M. Feldman) Ever since I was a young boy, the only thing I wanted to be was a cowboy. I wanted to own and work on a real ranch, with cattle and horses. Especially horses.
While I never became a cowboy, considering everything I have done
(Richard M. Feldman) Ever since I was a young boy, the only thing I wanted to be was a cowboy. I wanted to own and work on a real ranch, with cattle and horses. Especially horses.
While I never became a cowboy, considering everything I have done
He opens the radio then scouts through the old books trying to find some easy read
