|A gift from my mother in 1972: Zenith Delft Blue, Made in Holland|
No, it's not my birthday, but I'm desperate for post material because I'm too worn out to be creative at the moment.
Monday's child is fair of face;
Tuesday's child is full of grace.
Wednesday's child is full of woe;
Thursday's child has far to go.
Friday's child is loving and giving;
Saturday's child works hard for a living.
But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day
is bonny and blithe and good and gay.
If taken as true, being a Friday's Child comes with a big responsibility to others. For many years now, much of my time has been given over to serving others, which can be beautifully rewarding but tiring. It's also very humbling. At times my selfish side (my "flesh") screams for more "Me Time," and I must admit I try to protect it when possible.
How about it? Does the poem fit you? Of course, I think all of us are really a mixed bag of each day- and more. I guess the poem was based on fortune-telling, which would be a no-no for Christians. But now it's just a nursery rhyme, albeit a rather strange thing to tell children. Children need hope and deserve to be hopeful. I think we're all like children that way.
When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. "Do you understand what I have done for you?" he asked them ... Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet. I have set you an example
that you should do as I have done for you.
Welcome to my new followers. And many thanks to all of you who stop by. I appreciate your support!
May every day feed your hope (Jeremiah 29:11),