Today our women's group made a craft for christmas. Each of us took a string of lights and gently pushed each one into the hole of a glass box. Then we glued flowers and bells amidst the ribbons and bows. Some used bits of green or feathers, others white doves.

I tend to be" a less is more" kind of person especially when working at a craft as usually I can't wait to finish. Before completion, I would have made a thousand mistakes, pricked my finger, glued everywhere and then looked in awe at my friends with their perfect models .

Good work deserves praise and despite my inadequate attempt at the design.I do really express my admiration for their efforts . However, their self appreciative smiles would re-inforce my sense of failure. I can fill a library with books of crafts attended and failed. My house is a silent witness to my efforts as yarn and looms of every description jostled for space with fabric and machines.The neglected appliances designed to get a special seam or stitch lie idle taking up room. My low craft IQ is a definite handicap when you are in the company of these ladies who seem to be able to give lessons to Martha Stewart.

Today was different. My flowers were a bit lopsided between the bows but that was soon remedied and I had the confidence to make another box for my friend. There is no bigger thrill for me than to give a friend something of beauty made by my hands. I floated on air. I did not need to look at others. I was happy with mine. In my euphoria I went on a three mile hike to the nearest fabric shop.

As I walked, I reflected on how easy this craft was and imagined a book of easy crafts like it called "Easy crafts for ten thumbed

people".

Time flew as I day- dreamed and all too soon I reached the shop.

There I bought some leaves to make an autumnal tree, four pieces of fabric from the remnant section and some number 90 needles to sew the burgundy vinyl I bought to match floral brown with deep splashes of burgundy. I hope to make two purses sometime but if I never get to it, today, at least I'm happy.

Sunshades in the shadows

The 33 rd miner was composed as he quietly listened to his president. Earlier, I saw other reunions and wondered at their

at the self restraint of the relatives as each patiently waited for the Phoenix to emerge from the bowels of the earth. They had stayed for seventy days. Did they hold their breath during the last fifteen minutes of that wait? How do you greet the men you've missed so long with the whole world watching. Decorously, I guess. These dignified ladies who had the faith to hope despite the overwhelming odds now has the joy of certainty.

Sometimes, unusual events create faith and I feel God close. Then the crisis ends and and I go weak at the knees. Coping with routine is so much harder. Doubtless, the time may come when these men would be asked to pick up their socks from the floor or take the garbage out. Normalcy will bring its own healing struggles so to night , I thank God for giving the world a miracle, giving us a day to rejoice. For the ladies and other relatives who kept vigil by the tunnel, for all the people involved in this quilt of cooperation, may normal life bring strength.

Retreat into real living

Home after four days at Laity Lodge which is in a Canyon in Texas. Framed by mountains with a reluctant river fringing most of the buildings, I could not help but think of the importance of Gardens to our spiritual well-being. God intended man's first home to be a garden. The Lodge consisted of all the essential elements: a variety of plant life-trees, flowers and shrubs. There were animals in the ground and birds in the air. There were fountains and sculpture, swings and hammocks. Even man made things blended with nature. The cottages were made of wood with beautifully functional furniture and furnishings. The folks around the Lodge providing delicious food and personal touches of service in an attitude of willingness to meet my needs. These exquisitively beautiful features interacting together gave a tremendous sense of harmony and peace that soothed and refreshed my spirit.

Beyond reach of phones, in the absence of television and radio, the word retreated and the peace of this garden park, slowly enveloped my spirit. So the healing began.