Tag Archives: writer

Saving the Best For last

(photo- of my babies when they were small)

Some things are never forgotten, laboring souls that go to church

because we didn’t know, how to fight tired nights with weary days.

or the systems of oppression-recession,

systems that knock us down to the date, they go w-a-a-y back,

systems that refuse to acknowledge more external,

as to the wisdom of God

the creator of all that is,

both in & out-eternal

Prayers flooding beneath the red cushion-stains

the brown and grey wooden Briar-patch

Attach to us the impossible,

Miracles so wide spread they reach even the dead

so let it be said ,

we got up and walked

walked on water

moved mountains

“stopped the mouths of lions”

turned our “waters into wine”

we “touched the hem of his garment”

we “laid down our burdens”

for the last time

kindness sister Krissy

Stories From a Third Grade Girl: with something to prove, if nothing else, to herself (part three)

(childhood photo of me)

There I was walking back into the third grade with my head held high. I’d made up in my mind. I was going to plead my case with Mr. Luna to let me back into 3rd grade. I didn’t quite have a plan. Yet I was determine put a zip lock on my lips, throw away the key- so help me God.

Okay not really but I’d said my prayers. Hey! I’m working on it. Anyhow, with all kinds of feelings like Chimpanzees swinging through corridors and frogs leaping over my head. Even my baby rabbit, Honey joined in. Even Honey didn’t believe. I’d last one whole day, keeping my- my-mouth shut.

The minute I made it back to Mr. Luna’s class the bell rang to go home. I walked toward Mr. Luna’s desk. I waited until he’d finished passing out our math homework assignment.

Me: Mr Luna, u-u-m-m-m-m-m, I wanted to say, I’m sorry for being a motor mouth in class. I promised God and Honey, you know my sweet baby rabbit. That if you’d let me stay in 3rd grade. You’ll see I’ve changed.

Mr. Luna: Really in only 24 hrs? Well isn’t that Peter and all 12 disciples walking on the water.

Me: I know I’m no saint, or anything like that.

Mr. Luna: Besides I hear good things from Mrs. Davis. You did a fine job reading to her class. So much so. I’ve decided to let you stay.

Stay! Like forever, forever, like never-ever come back until your old and grey and can’t fit into 3rd grade anymore!

Mr. Luna: By the way I’ve signed you up for the 3rd grade reading club, and the first book is on me. “How To Eat Fried Worms” by Thomas Rockwell

He shoved the book into my hands and said “don’t forget your math homework. See you tomorrow after school.”

After school! I barely made school, now I have to be there after the fire-siren. Which says to me it’s not a fire. Schools out and me too.

Oh’ no! No, no, no!

Mr. Luna yells, down the hall. “Don’t worry Krissy, I’ve already called your mom and told her everything!

That’s just great. Great, great, great! Now I’m death warmed- over for sure and soon to be cold again.

your kindness sister Krissy (true stories from my childhood)

P.S. If that’s okay with you, I’ll be back with the rest of my stories from 3rd grade (hopefully you’ll laugh as much as I have- just remembering the stupidest, weirdest things that happened to me in 3rd grade)

Sometimes: I look In the Mirror Just to See, If Its’ ME

There are times, where my mind seems to find – deepest/darkness of memories but that’s not who I am anymore. All that pain, all that misery wrapped around itself, made something,

beautiful out of me…

I’m watching the snowfall, for the first time, in a long time, sitting by myself, in a warm and comfy chair.

I’ve seen my share – where the world has got its’ shame,

where the world bends,

broken wings are changing,

we’re all feathers together,

colors of the same icy winds

gatherings’ of love,

little crumbs,

things of little breads

feeding our longing soul

everybody needs a little,

so, I’m

exchanging my pain into hope

exchanging my tears into joy

exchanging my loneliness into feathers that fly in the sky

kindness sister Krissy

Be A Little More Positive Please

It feels like I’ve been sitting on the sideline in my own life.

a listening witness of all things,

mostly out of my control, I’m not crying rivers’ but I just believe ,

I’m so over suffering or letting my suffering win.

kindness sister Krissy