childhood – Penny Wilson Writes

#writephoto-Magic-Snow Day

Posted on December 28, 2023December 27, 2023 by Penny Wilson Writes

I finally released her from my grip and she burst out the front door and into the cold December morning. It was the most magical of all days; a Snow Day!

A Snow Day means not only do you get to play in the snow, but there is NO School that day! This is a miracle to a child.

She looked a little like the Michelin Man, as she made her way to the lot behind the school and I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.

I guess I’m a little overly cautious. I insisted on snow pants, heavy jacket, gloves, boots and hat. She tried to tell me that her friends were waiting, that she needed to go, now! But I wouldn’t turn her loose until I was satisfied with the layers of clothing.

She shuffled through the fluffy snow; her breath making little clouds of vapor in front of her as she walked/ran toward the sound of the other kids.

Crossing the little bridge, she slipped just a little as she got to the other side. I gasped at the sight, but only a foot ended up in the creek. The boots she had would keep her warm and dry.

Being a parent has a special kind of reward. Despite all the headaches, the tantrums and the growing pains, parents get to see real magic because of their kids. It doesn’t happen all the time.

There is the wonder on their face as they see the lights on a Christmas tree, or discover that first hidden Easter egg. It’s watching the world through your child’s eyes and seeing that world with the joy and innocence that they do.

I’ll never forget the first time we watched the Wizard of Oz together. Through Michelle’s eyes, I was fascinated by the ‘Good Witch’ and terrified by the ‘Bad Witch’. The Flying Monkeys were frightening and I came to love the sweet Tin Man.

As my daughter reached the snowy meadow and her friends, I could see the excitement on her face. Her cheeks were red from the cold and she was grinning with delight. Along with the others, she climbed the gentle slope to the top and waited her turn for the sled.

Standing in my living room looking through the window at the crowd of children across the meadow, I was witnessing a miracle. I was seeing the kind of magic that only a child can fully appreciate.

I was seeing the magic of a Snow Day.

** This is for a prompt on Sue Vincent’s blog. If you would like to get in on her weekly prompt, you can find out all about the fun here. Sue gave us the beautiful photo above and the word Magic. So this is my humble little offering: Snow Day Magic

Life

Summers of My Youth

Posted on July 28, 2022July 28, 2022 by Penny Wilson Writes

Sometimes I long for the summers of my youth. When summer days were endless and Grandpa was my hero, the biggest, strongest man I knew. I remember days spent sitting on a summer sidewalk with a hammer and a bag of pecans. Barefoot was the dress code. Bologna sandwiches and playing in the spinkler on the lawn. Going to the drive-in with the station wagon loaded with all the neighbor kids. Brown paper bags of popcorn and falling asleep before the 2nd movie came on. Being tucked into bed, with a tender kiss on my cheek. I recall laying on my back on a hillside watching the puffy white clouds and savouring the tiny drops of nectar from the honeysuckle blossoms. Fireflies in a jar.

Don’t get me wrong, life was hard, damned hard, at times. But I thank God and my Mom, for beautiful memories like these.

Do you have a favorite Summer Memory?

Thank you for joining me on this journey. Penny ❤

Life, Writing

I Miss Letters

Posted on July 14, 2018July 14, 2018 by Penny Wilson Writes

Think about THIS the next time you look through your pile of junk mail…

Life, Stories, Writing

Miss Stiff

Posted on March 28, 2018 by Penny Wilson Writes

I was trying to think back to when the first real spark for writing happened to me. In my teens, I would write those, love-sick, heart-wrenching poems to that boy that would never read it. I never wanted anyone to see what I was writing because it was my deepest, love-sick secrets. I also dabbled at keeping a diary at different times as a child, but I never stuck with it for very long.

Then in 7^th grade, Junior High, I met my English Teacher, Miss Stiff.

Continue reading “Miss Stiff” →

Poetry, Uncategorized

Ordinary Day

Posted on February 21, 2018 by Penny Wilson Writes

I smelled rain today and thought of you.

It whisked me back to a time of innocence

And forever-long summers.

You towered over me;

My hand tiny in your grasp.

Your voice, boomed.

All I heard was love.

Big as a mountain

With eyes of sky blue.

You smelled of Old Spice and leather.

An ordinary day with you,

Was an extraordinary day

For me.

You

Were Loved.

Life, Stories

Siblings

Posted on December 5, 2017 by Penny Wilson Writes

There were four of us kids growing up. I’m the only girl. I love my brothers. I really do. I even loved them, admired and respected them when we were children. But this (the picture above) is usually what most interactions looked like between me and my brothers.

We fought horribly! All. The. Time.

I’m sort of in the middle in birth order. I have 2 older brothers and one younger one. My poor, sweet younger brother… Since I could not direct my anger at my older brothers, I aimed my hatred for the male species at him.

Continue reading “Siblings” →

Life, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing

Ordinary Miracles

Posted on April 14, 2017August 9, 2017 by Penny Wilson Writes

I mention a poem by Erica Jong in a post that I did previously called The Ruined Book. You can see that here if you’d like: https://pennywilsonwrites.wordpress.com/2017/03/29/the-ruined-book/

I was asked why I did not include that poem in my post. An oversight on my part. Here it is. Enjoy.

Spring, rainbows,
ordinary miracles
about which
nothing new can be said.

The stars on a clear night
of a New England winter;
the soft air of the islands
along the old
Spanish Main;
pirate gold shining
in the palm;
the odor of roses
to the lover’s nose. . .

There is no more poetry
to be written
of these things.
The rainbow’s sudden revelation–
behold!
The cliché is true!
What can one say
but that?

So too
with you, little heart,
little miracle,

but you are
no less miracle
for being ordinary.

–Erica Jong