My friend Jeannine is an Indian. A Lakota Indian. An incredible artist with an amazing spirit who grew up on the Rosebud Reservation in South Dakota. She’s been friends with my Cowboy for … I don’t know … ever?
(I met her a few years ago when she was passing through Bozeman and for me it was an immediate kinship and adoration.)
And this week, my parents had planned their vacation to Mount Rushmore, we decided to join them, and it gave us an excuse to spend some time with the beautiful Jeannine.
And I feel blessed.
Blessed for the gift of coincidence that brought our travels so close that we would have had to look for an excuse NOT to spend time together.
Blessed for the gift of time that allowed my Cowboy to reunite with such a dear friend.
And blessed that our littles (and I) got the experience of her spirit and the gift of hearing stories passed down through the ages …
Like the story she shared from her grandfather about twigs from the cottonwood poplar tree.
Jeannine told us that if we were to find a cottonwood poplar twig on the ground, we should take a moment to remember the simple truth of the beauty found inside each cottonwood poplar twig.
Because inside every cottonwood poplar twig is a present from The Creator.
And if God has the patience and time to put a star inside every cottonwood poplar twig … just imagine what gifts he’s put in each one of us.
Happy Friday …