Last Sunday, I sat in the Hyatt hotel lobby and watched fellow “Rise” attendees standing in check out lines or waiting for taxis and airport shuttles. Although we had all been strangers four days earlier, now we greeted each other like old friends with open hearts and eyes that sparkled with inspiration.
Collaboration and Inspiration; these are the words that characterize the time we spent together at “Rise.”
“Rise” sparkled with highlights. But here is a list of four lessons that I took home with me.
1. The best way to inspire people is to speak from your own authentic, inner experience. Many of the speakers at “Rise” powerfully exhibited how this is done.
2. In today’s world of information overload, a key step in marketing yourself is to “find your tribe and feed them.” Your tribe consists of the people who can benefit from your products and services. Feed your tribe, by freely giving them something of relevant value. You and your clients are in a collaboration of giving and receiving. Everyone wins, and rises together.
3. Ask any woman sitting next to you to describe her goals and then sit back and listen. You will glimpse a universe within her of power, passion, and rich experience. It will amaze you.
4. When women overcome limiting beliefs about their own self-worth, a powerful and inspiring inner beauty shines forth which magnetizes everyone around them. It can change the world.
Congratulations to Ellie Drake and all the dedicated people on the scene and behind the scenes, for a virtually seamless production that really delivered on its goals. Ellie Drake’s vision raises the bar for all of us. Shine on, Braveheart Women! I am grateful for this years brilliant Rise event 2010.
I recently had an appointment with a “Psych K” practitioner. This type of therapy uses techniques similar to nuero-linguistic programming to help uncover deep-seated beliefs that might be a hindrance to achieving one’s goals. I am a children’s book author and illustrator, and my second book has just been released. I wanted to discover any blocks that might prevent me from successfully promoting my books.
I was delighted with what I learned from my session. While I was in deep meditation, my therapist led me through two telling exercises, which I will simplify here.
First, she had me repeat, “I am a happy and successful author.” I must admit, I didn’t believe myself when I said it. Then she had me repeat the statement silently until I felt a shift. It took a while, but as I repeated the statement in my mind, I saw myself reading my books to a group of smiling children. This is actually something that I am doing right now, and it brings me incomparable joy. Suddenly, it was easy to say, “I am a happy and successful author,” and believe it.
Next, my therapist asked, “What is the message you are trying to say with your books.” We were both surprised when I replied without hesitation, “My message is: I love you.”
I left my therapy session feeling very happy. In fact, I was floating on a cloud. I realized that, on a very deep level, I am already a big success!
I hope you can find something in my experience that is an inspiration to you too!
This morning I discovered this beautiful video. It reminded me that, because of our souls design, we have the desire to say, “I love you.” And we are constantly looking for ways to connect with others. When the power of love is allowed to flow through us, it breaks down the barriers that seem to divide us. I hope you take the time to watch this video. It’s wonderful!
Mother loved hummingbirds and kept a hummingbird feeder outside her kitchen window. These unusual birds are colorful, feisty, and industrious; all words I could use to describe Mom as well. No wonder they were her favorites!
Mom was quick and I was slow. We had always had our differences. She was practical and down to earth; I have always been an artist and a dreamer. But the love we had for each other was beyond measure. Through all our conflicts there was never any question about that!
One day, I called Mom to tell her that I had received a commission to create an oil painting that included the image of a hummingbird. My new client was a lovely middle-aged woman who wanted a memorial painting, and she had told me the heart-wrenching story behind it. Four years earlier she had adopted twin boys and one of the infants had died in his crib of SIDS, (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.)
After the funeral, overwhelmed with grief, she sat alone on her patio, crying. Like all SIDS mothers, she wondered if perhaps she could have done something to prevent her baby’s death. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she prayed for peace, and for faith to believe that her baby was now safe with God.
Suddenly, she looked up to find a hummingbird hovering right in front of her face. The hummingbird took one of her tears, and then flew away. She felt awe, and a deep sense of peace, believing her prayers had been answered. Now, four years later, she wanted to memorialize this experience with a painting of her two sons; one in the arms of an angel, the other one walking alongside and holding the angel’s hand. Overhead, in a bower of wisteria, I would paint the hummingbird.
I was actually a little worried about what Mom would think of this mystical story. But I had completely misjudged her. Her mother’s heart embraced it. And she wanted this painting to be the best thing I had ever done!
I brought my “work in progress” to Maui that year, where Mom, Dad, my older brother and I met annually for a two week family vacation. I set up my easel outside on the lanai overlooking the beach. Over my shoulder, Mom watched me paint with a critical eye. “Can’t you make that angel a little thinner? Her robe is too poufy,” she said. “I don’t like that tree,” and, “Can’t you use a different shade of blue?” It made me feel self-conscious. I found it hard to take, even though I knew that she only wanted me to succeed.
I gave the painting my very best effort. The finished work was well received by my client. Mom was moderately pleased. What pleased me most about the painting was the way the colors seemed to glow.
Three years later, Mom was on vacation in Maui again. But that year I was unable to go. Instead, I was in California looking out my ocean view window at a rainy day, and wishing that I were in Maui with Mom. I was talking to a friend on the phone when suddenly there was a fluttering at my window. I gasped! I had the impression that an enormous bird was throwing itself against the glass. At first, I thought it was a seagull.
“What is it?” my friend asked on the other end of the line.
I looked again. “It’s a hummingbird!” I said with surprise.
“What’s it doing?” my friend asked.
“It’s hovering in my window and just looking at me!” I said with astonishment.
The hummingbird was five feet from where I stood on the other side of the glass. Except for its wings, it didn’t move. And it was looking me right in the eye! I was amazed that it did not fly away.
“Is it gone?” my friend asked.
“No, it’s still looking at me!”
“Well, hello there!” I said to the hummingbird, wondering if it could hear me through the glass. I was enchanted. And then, I actually began feeling alarmed. On one hand I wanted to commune with this tiny bird that was paying so much attention to me. On the other hand, I thought it should fly off like birds normally do. I stood with the phone to my ear for almost two minutes, not saying a word, and stared at the hummingbird as it looked back at me. Then, finally, the hummingbird flew away.
“Well, that was certainly unusual,” my friend agreed.
I looked at the clock. It was 2:40. “I gotta go,” I said. “I have just enough time to get to the library and back before my 4:00 appointment arrives.” We said good-bye and I hung up the phone.
I returned from the library shortly before 4:00 and picked up the mail on my way into the house. I smiled when I saw that there was a letter from Mom—and a postcard as well! I would save the letter to read later. But I read what Mom had written on the postcard with a picture of a Hawaiian red hibiscus. She wrote: “It’s not the same here without you. I dreamed about you last night. I love you!”
I was still thinking about Mom’s note when I saw the blinking light on my answering machine. It was a message from my brother. He had terrible news. Mom had suddenly died in Maui of a heart attack. She had been making Greek soup for my Dad and my brother and said she wanted to lie down for a minute to rest. It had happened at about 2:40 PM, California time. Immediately, I heard the doorbell ring. It was my best friend arriving for our 4:00 appointment. With tears streaming down my face I opened the door and rushed into her arms.
Over the next few hours my friend prayed with me. We talked. There were calls from my family. I lit candles and listened to Handel’s Messiah and wept.
Later that night, the memory of the hummingbird penetrated through my sadness. I was jolted out of my tears. Slowly, I began to realize that I had just received a beautiful gift, and it had been tailor-made for me. The poetry of the hummingbird's visit was overwhelming. Everything seemed connected and all the loose ends were tied up in a bow. Life had meaning, and the meaning was love! Mom had sent me one more message! I could just see her mischievous grin.
Could all this have simply been a coincidence? If I had seen that hummingbird on any other day, I would always have remembered it. But on that day, at that time… I’ll always have strong feelings about it.
The hummingbird touched my heart in such a profound way that I found strength to sustain me through the sadness. On the long plane ride back to my family home, and as my family assembled for the wake, while I read my eulogy and when I played my Mother’s favorite hymns on the piano at her funeral, through all the tears, I had an overwhelming and abiding sense of Love. I had the strong feeling that the veil between heaven and earth was very thin, indeed.
You shall spread your wings and fly Above the moonlit midnight sky To where the stars spill pools of light And planets wheel in halos bright.
Just south of heaven’s crescent rise Where lie the dreams no human eyes Have dreamed to have, or dared to dream, But twinkle there and spark and gleam.
Onward towards the gates of dawn, To find the night has come and gone! Then tumbling from bright skies you fled And find you’re cradled in your bed.
I feel fortunate that I usually remember my dreams. I dream in full color, with the ability to smell and taste, surprise myself with a punch line, fly in a multitude of ways ... it is truly like living another completely full life. Recently, my dreams have been so amazing that I've started writing them down. This morning my alarm went off just as I completed the following dream adventure. I decided that it was such an iconic one, that I really should share it. So, if you have a moment, take a little journey into a dream - and let me know what you think!
The Doll Salesman
I am a salesman. I find goods for cheap and resell them for a profit. For a time, I sold dolls. I still had quite a few of them left when I took on a new project. It was clear to me that I would no longer have time to sell dolls. I unlocked the door to my locker to check on my inventory, and found the dolls sitting all in a row, their eyes staring straight ahead. “I’m moving all of you into deep storage,” I said firmly.
One of the dolls turned her head and looked at me with such a sad expression that I was sure she was about to cry. In a tiny voice she said, “Can’t you find someone to love me? Can’t you find me a home?”
I looked at her plastic face and perfectly coifed hair; her full pink cheeks and small button nose. I was filled with pity. “Even dolls have a shelf life,” I realized. “In fact, she is already a little out of fashion.” “All right,” I said. “I will try to find you a home.”
And so, we began our journey. Side by side, we walked down one of the wealthiest streets in town with beautiful homes on either side. “This would be a wonderful place for her to live,” I decided. Peeking through the window of a large Victorian mansion I saw that it was decorated inside with elegant antiques. At one end of a brocade settee, propped against a velvet pillow, sat a fancy doll with hair in gold ringlets. She wore a silk dress embellished with ribbons and lace. I looked down at the little doll standing at my feet and sighed. “No. A rich family would have no interest in buying this doll,” I thought.
We walked on. Now, the houses were not so fine. And with every house I passed, I asked myself again, “What kind of person would buy this doll?”
People hurrying down the street took no notice of us. The doll looked as discouraged as I felt.
“Look,” I said to her, leaning down and choosing a chalky rock to write with. I drew a large question mark in the middle of the sidewalk. I took two more steps and drew an arrow. “If someone has an answer, they will be able to follow us,” I said. As we continued on our journey, I bent down every so often and drew another arrow pointing out the direction we had taken.
Finally we came to the poor side of town. I felt sure that a poor little girl who had nothing would love this doll. But I looked down at the doll and wondered, “How far is she willing to go to find someone to love?” I imagined her dress dirty and her hair all in tangles.
I clearly saw two lives from beginning to end. In one life, a poor little girl loved the doll and took very good care of her and thought she was the most precious thing in her world. In another scene, a poor little girl didn’t know how to take care of the doll because no one in her family had ever shown her how to take care of anything.
A sound caused me to turn and look over my shoulder. A little girl ran up to us with breathless expectation. I could see by her clothing and bare feet that she was indeed poor.
“Would you like this doll?” I asked.
“Oh, yes!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining bright.
“Well then, you must give me something for it,” I told her, thinking that she would not value the doll as much if I simply gave it away.
“I haven’t any coins,” she said. Her shoulders slumped and she looked down at her feet.
“You may give me something other than money,” I told her gently. “What do you have?”
She hesitated shyly. “I wrote a song.”
“Good. Then give me your song.”
In a sweet childish voice she began to sing. She sang me a simple, little song about a princess. And when she was done, I smiled. “Thank you,” I said. Picking up the doll, I placed her into the child’s waiting arms and turned to go home.
My husband laughed at me last night – in the “You’re crazy, and amazing, and I love you, and respect you, and can’t figure you out, but I’m willing to go with it,” kind of way. I had been talking about my goals and plans; about all the things I want to accomplish in my life. He said, (admiringly) “If it was just up to me, I would have given up long ago.”
Later, I lay in bed thinking about it. It’s true that I am an incurable optimist. I think if you’re going to be an artist, writer or musician for any length of time it’s a requirement. Even life stories of the greatest artist’s tell of perseverance. But there is another level to this blind optimism that bestows life with treasures more precious than gold. It’s “Wonder!”
If you’re going to live in that magical realm of “Wonder,” you’re going to have to suspend a little reality. Don’t get me wrong. I’m all about hard work, craftsmanship, knowledge, street smarts –and I have a foundation of credible achievements, thank you very much. But I’m addicted to “Wonder.” It’s better than “manifesting your reality,” because it’s the life force behind creation. “Reality” pales in comparison to the sheer joy of “Wonder.”
Wonder is born from your heart, from your bliss, from that center of your true self. It’s the essential child in you that perpetually hopes and joyfully dreams - and creatively plays, plays, plays.
I look at my life as an experiment in following my dreams. I guess I’ll have to let you know how it all turns out. But I have an angel for a husband, I live in a storybook cottage and I write and illustrate stories that have happy endings. It seems to be working so far.
My heart is full of gratitude this Thanksgiving. Cheers!
Marilyn Churchill P.S. The illustration above is from my next book; Cecile and The Treasures of Belamor - (available next month.)
Who holds our fate? Does Beauty hide a bad intent Capricious to our plight? Or is she sheltering us through the dark Till dawn permits our sight?
I painted Earth Angel and wrote this poem in the first days following the 1989 California Loma Prieta earthquake. The earth was still moving and I was afraid. It was a comfort to paint this angel.
Very quickly, "Earth Angel" flew around the world. I sold prints in galleries and it was featured in "Angel" magazine. It also appeared in several German magazines, including Der Spiegal and the German TV guide. Then it was produced as a poster and sold internationally. The 10,000 copies rapidly sold out.
To this day, I still receive emails from people who want to share an experience about what this angel has meant to them. Some of the stories are amazing. I feel honored to know that I am connected to others through this painting. But it's funny, I don't really feel like this angel is my creation. It was a gift. Usually a painting takes me a month to complete. But this one only took 2 days!
I hope you enjoy it.
I'm sold out of prints of Earth Angel, but I still have some greeting cards left at:
This is a paradoxical painting. It seemed to take on a life of it's own as I sporadically worked on it for several years.
The angel holds a treasure box. Her face expresses deep conflicting emotions: compassion, hesitancy, regret, innocence and knowing. The meaning is complicated by the fact that I borrowed the yin/yang posture of the hands clasping the box from a painting of Pandora by the artist, Rosetti. Pandora's box seems far from an angelic symbol. The ancient myth of Pandora tells of her opening a mysterious, forbidden box and unleashing all the evils into the world! But think of Pandora's box with its fearsome contents as the alchemists tool box filled with raw materials for transformation and then this painting makes sense. Through love and understanding even the negative powers within us can be transformed into strengths.
Evil in the world can be turned to good. Lead becomes gold. The angel protectively holds a Pandora's box; a mixed assortment of diverse possibilities. She wonders if the recipient will have the wisdom to turn its powerful contents into something enduringly precious.
A sense of identity and self worth is the foundation for living a successful life. My life purpose as a writer and artist is to inspire young girl's (and women) to remember that they are infinitely and intrinsically precious. And we are all powerful creators, the heroines in our own adventure! These are underlying themes in my series of books, Mystic Heroine Adventures, targeted for girls age 7 to 12.
I made this animated video based on my first book, Cecile and The Spider Queen. (Available at www.MysticHeroine.com, Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com)
This fun little video is 1000 frames of art and only lasts a little over a minute, but it took me about three weeks to do. It was created with Flip Book Digicell software on my MacBook Pro. Although I have had a career in computer animation, this is the first time I didn't have a team working with me. I would very much like to do another video to advertise my second book, Cecile and The Treasures of Belamor which is being launched in November 2009 -- but I think I need a vacation before I attempt another one of these!
I hope you enjoy my little fantasy.
Best regards,
Marilyn Churchill
I have been to a lot of events, but none have been more inspiring than the Braveheart Women’s Rise Conference last weekend. The back to back notable speakers were brilliant-- gorgeous, intelligent and well-spoken. I heard someone say that it was like watching “The View” on steroids. All we had to do was to keep up with all the information and upliftment coming at us.
A full spectrum of women’s issues were presented and discussed; everything from health, spirituality, abusive relationships, dream analysis, finances, and pole dancing to awaken the inner goddess. ☺ Even the breaks were a lot of fun as people danced in the aisles to loud, upbeat music.
I’ve heard Ellie Drake, our founder at Braveheart women, say that she likes to “over-deliver” on her promises. That was evident all week-end as conference attendees basked in a spirit of generosity that just didn’t quit. Let me give you one little “for instance.” During check in and registration, we were handed a designer gift bag thoughtfully filled with conference supplies: TWO bottles of water, 3 healthy almond and apricot candy bars, an organic bittersweet dark chocolate candy bar, one large note pad, a pen, plus a tube of pleasantly scented “Lip Rescue” shea butter chap stick. It made me feel loved. And I made good use of all these supplies.
There were so many highlights. Let me just name a few. Ellie Drake gave an overview of her vision for Braveheart Women that was so high minded and passionate that it still give me chills. She is out to change the world by empowering women and bringing us together in a global community. I think most of us are starting to get the message: it’s time for women to step forward and use our feminine energies; cooperation, nurturing creativity and intuitive wisdom, to bring about world peace.
At the awards ceremony on Saturday night, Carol Channing received an award for her philanthropic contributions to the arts. She gave an unforgettable acceptance speech that was funny and charming. Then in her inimitable style she sang “Hello Dolly” for us, substituting the word “Brave Hearts.” The crowd went nuts! Carol’s driving passion these days is to bring the arts back into the educational system in order to stimulate young minds.
And hats off to our entertaining Master of Ceremonies, Paul Ryan. (The Academy Awards committee should take notes).
One of the things that I really learned during this star-studded week-end. (with Maya Angelo, Muriel Hemmingway, Marla Maples, Michael and Ricky Beckworth, Kate Eddlemen, Stephanie Powers, Delta Burke, Courtney Cox, Rolanda Watts, etc. etc.) was that, without exception, every celebrity that I met—these great talented movers and shakers on the public stage—are genuinely philanthropic individuals with passion for their causes. Like all of us, they are interested in making the world a better place. Bravo to all you Braveheart women!
It was an amazing experience to be in a congregation of women all devoted to raising the planets energy by being authentic to themselves and their intrinsic feminine power. I was able to network with women from around the world. I’m telling all my friends about Braveheart Women. See you online!
A Dragon's Tears; I heard this chinese folk tale long ago. It's powerful message of innocence, fearlessness, and self-empowerment stayed with me. Recently, I was inspired to create this illustration and retell the tale using my own words. I hope you will enjoy it too.
May Lee lived in a little Chinese village peacefully nestled beside a tall purple mountain. People always thought she was an odd little girl. May Lee could often be found sitting alone, quietly gazing up at the mountain. There was a cave at the top of the mountain where it was said that a terrible dragon lived. On clear nights May Lee thought she saw two eyes there, shining out like beacons. And in the morning she thought she saw the dragon’s breath drifting down the mountain like mist.
Whenever children in May Lee’s village were disobedient, their mother’s would say, “If you don’t behave, that awful dragon will come and take you away.” This frightened the children so much that they usually did what they were told.
But when May Lee heard someone mention the dragon, she was not afraid. “Please tell me more about him,” she would say with interest. However no one had actually seen the dragon, so no one could tell her anything.
As the day of May Lee’s tenth birthday drew near, her mother said, “Make a list of all the people that you would like to invite to your birthday party.” May Lee thoughtfully wrote down a list. And the first name on her list was the dragon.
Her mother gasped when she read it. And then she laughed. “Now May Lee, you gave me quite a shock. But of course, I know you are joking.”
“No, Mother,” May Lee replied sincerely. “I want the dragon to come to my party.”
Her mother rolled her eyes and said nothing more. Over the next few weeks, her mother got everything ready for her daughter's celebration. She sent out the birthday invitations, but forgot all about the dragon.
On the morning of her birthday, May Lee awoke early. Everyone in the house was still sleeping. She got dressed and went outside. She gazed at the mountain where smoke from the dragon’s breath hung like a cloud. With determination, she headed up the mountain.
May Lee climbed to the top of the mountain and came to the door of the cave. “Yoo hoo! Dragon! Are you here?” she called, peering into the darkness. There was no response. “Yoo hoo! Dragon!” she called again. There was a thud, and then she heard heavy footsteps.
“Who’s there?” said a deep rumbling voice.
“I'm May Lee. And I want to invite you to my birthday party.”
Suddenly a giant dragon appeared at the door of the cave. “You want me to come to your birthday party?” he bellowed. “You want me to come to your birthday party?” he roared, exhaling a puff of black smoke.
“Yes,” May Lee said nervously, wondering now if she had made a mistake.
The dragon’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits as he studied the little girl intently. “I was just making some tea. Would you like to join me?” he asked in a gentler tone.
“Yes, I would like that very much,” May Lee sighed with relief. She sat on a rock as the dragon poured her some tea.
“I have been so lonely up here in my cave,” the dragon confessed. “I have had no one to talk to.” He quickly wiped away a tear.
“You can talk to me,” May Lee said.
The dragon was not used to kindness. Overwhelmed with emotion, tears began rolling down his cheeks. He cried great drops of sadness. Soon a puddle had formed at his feet. And still his long held heartache poured out like rain. He cried so hard that his tears flowed out of the cave and streamed down the mountain. He cried until his lonely flood of tears was all cried out.
Then the dragon wiped his eyes and blew his nose. He looked at May Lee gratefully. “Climb onto my back, my friend, and we will go to your party.”
May Lee tied a bright birthday ribbon around the dragon’s neck and climbed onto his back. Together, May Lee and the dragon sailed down the river of tears and into the village.
May Lee’s mother woke up and looked out her window. The villagers all turned to see. “What an odd little girl,” they all gasped with admiration.
Here we are in the last half of August! I'm taking a moment to recall this summer's happy memories. I like to think of days gone by as time well spent. Time is after all a great teacher. The things we know to be true grow deeper with each passing year.
I didn't like to be preached to when I was a child. And I was more responsive to advice when it was delivered in a positive way. I try to remember this when I work with children.
For several years I have been jotting down personal truisms and good advice to include in my Mystic Heroine Guide to Life, Love, and Everything, (-designed for young girls of all ages!)
Below you will find a small offering of these. I would be delighted to have you add to my list. So please feel free to post comments - or your own words of wisdom!
A Mystic Heroine Guide to Life, Love, and Everything
Remember: to smell the roses, to study the moon, to listen to the wind - to be quiet sometimes and remember your dreams.
Your life is a story and you are the heroine.
You were born with what you need to make it a beautiful journey. You will find help along the way. Ask for what you need.
Thinking good thoughts is your most powerful tool. Everything you do begins with a thought.
Act as if your life has a noble purpose, and it will.
When life seems difficult, remember; you are a heroine. Make choices that you can be proud of.
Fill your life with the things you love.
Let happiness be your guide. Find what it is that you love to do and learn to do it well.
Treasure beauty wherever you find it. Look for it in unlikely places. And if you cannot find it - create it!
Be thankful for all the good things in life.
Love God. Love others. And love yourself.
Love is a miracle, and miracles have power to change the world.
No two people can stand in the same place at the same time. Since we all have different points of view, it's smart to keep an open mind.
A generous heart grows wealthy.
Just as appleseeds grow apples, good choices grow good results. And seeds that are hidden in the ground will not stay hidden long.
Be honest.
Learn from your mistakes. That is what they're for.
Be yourself. Find your own style and you will always be beautiful.
There is no one else in the whole world like you. You are part of the whole. The whole world needs your part.
Well, that's it until next time. I will be savoring these last days of summer!
Hello BraveHeart friends! I've written another inspirational story. I hope you enjoy it. Hi! My name is Cecile, and I'm the Princess of Belamor. I discovered that taking a little time to imagine how other people are feeling can make the world a more beautiful place!
My friend, Lulu Finnella, is a dressmaker. She has a cute shop in the village, filled with the hats and dresses she makes. She arranges everything by color. Since my favorite color is blue, I always head straight for the rack of blue dresses.
When I heard that Lulu had a cold and sniffles, I thought about the last time I was sick and how it seemed to take forever to get better. I remembered how caring everyone at the castle had been. Their kindness cheered me up and helped a lot. So I decided to make Lulu a get-well card.
I spread out all my art supplies on the library table and got to work. On the cover I drew a picture of the sun, and inside I drew a beautiful orange and yellow butterfly. Then in bright purple letters I wrote the words, "Get well quick!" Finally, I asked the cooks to make Lulu some of Belamor's famous chicken soup.
When I got to Lulu's shop, the window shades were pulled down tight and a note on the door said, "Closed." Lulu lives above her store, so I climbed the steep stairs to the top and knocked on her little green door. The door opened and Doc was standing there with his black bag in hand.
"I was just leaving. Don't worry," he said, seeing my concern. "Lulu will be right as rain in no time. But she could use some cheering up," he added with a wink.
Lulu was propped up in bed with several big fluffy pink pillows. Her nose was red and she was looking blue. But she ate some soup and she liked my card, and by the time I left, there was a smile on her face. I thought that she really did seem to be feeling better.
It was several weeks later when I stopped in to see her again. I noticed that there was a new sign above her door. Painted in bright colors, it was shaped like a butterfly and said, "Lulu's." The silver bell above the door rang cheerily as I entered her shop.
Lulu was busily at work on a new dress. It was the pale green color of spring meadows, and covered with pink and white flowers. A blue silk sash fell like a waterfall down the front of the skirt. And, as if they had just landed, there were two silk butterflies, one on each shoulder.
"My, what a beautiful dress!" I exclaimed.
"I have you to thank for the inspiration," Lulu said happily, after taking the pins out of her mouth. You see, I put your beautiful get-well card next to my bed. When I fell asleep, I dreamed of flowers and butterflies and picnics in the sun."
It made me very happy to know that my little card had been such an inspiration!
What color was it?
There's a whole paintbox of colors in the story above. Test your memory: see how many colors you can remember without having to look! (But it's ok to look if you can't remember!)
1. What is Cecile's favorite color? 2. What did Cecile write in bright purple letters on Lulu's card? 3. What did Cecile draw in orange and yellow? 4. What color is Lulu's door? 5. What color were Lulu's pillows? 6. What color was the doctor's bag? 7. What color was Lulu's nose? 8. What color was the new sign for Lulu's dress shop? (trick question!) 9. What were the colors of the new dress that Lulu was making? 10. What color was the sash on Lulu's new dress? There are two more color references in the story. Can you find them?
What's your favorite color? Bye for now -- and have a very colorful day!
I like to write inspirational stories...This one is about smiling:
A Message from Princess Cecile:
Hi! My name is Cecile. Being a Princess is a great job. But keeping the kingdom of Belamor safe and sound is a big responsibility. And there's always work to be done. Luckily, I can count on lots of helping hands. The castle is like a beehive!
Gwynn, my housekeeper, checks to see that all the floors are swept and every surface shines. My personal secretary, Eleanor, keeps track of my appointments. Pierre, our master pastry chef, is a whiz at whipping up delicious desserts. But, if I don't do my job well, nothing runs smoothly! I've found that simple things, like telling everyone how much I appreciate their hard work, can make a world of difference.
Yesterday, we were anxiously awaiting a visit from my neighbor, King Thaddius of Larchmore. Of course, I was planning a huge banquet in his honor. Everyone knows that the king is rather particular about how he takes his tea, how his pudding is cooked, how his bed is made, and the fire laid. There were lots of frowns around the castle as we prepared for his arrival.
But have you ever noticed how most smiles are started by another smile?I decided to experiment.
On my way to the kitchen I saw Gwynn hurrying down the hall with a tall stack of linens. She was looking very serious. Since she didn't have a smile of her own, I gave her one of mine. I was amazed to see how that smile lit up her face!
As I descended the stairs, I heard Edwin coming down the hall from the opposite direction. He said, "Good morning Gwynn. You look so nice today."
"Thank you, sir," Gwynn replied with a giggle. The sound of that giggle made me giggle too, so that when I passed the dining hall and saw Bernard, carrying a heavy load of firewood and looking rather cross, it was easy to give him an encouraging smile. Like magic, as if his load became a little lighter, his frown turned upside down!
Smiles are so contagious that I can't help but think that those two smiles I gave away started something, because, before you know it, the whole castle was in a good mood. Everyone was laughing and smiling. The party had already started before the guest arrived!
Your Smile
Your smile can light up a room! It tells the world that you're a happy, friendly person. But did you know that your eyes are a big part of the message? Every great smile includes a pair of smiling eyes.
Here's something fun to experiment with. Learn to smile with just your eyes! Look at yourself in a mirror. First, try to look angry without moving your lips. See how your eyes narrow and the muscles around them tense? Next, smile without moving your lips. (Here's the trick: think happy thoughts and imagine those feelings filling up inside you until they spill out through your eyes.) Now you have smiling eyes!
Next time someone tells you to smile for the camera, make sure your eyes are smiling too!
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