Backdoor blessing

The kitchen has a back door, which yawns open to overlook the honey-hued morning sunlight dribbling on leafy rhubarbs, a white-washed storage building that emits as much hum from boring bees as from the drone of a freezer, and a simple porch that allows easy access to a flagstone walk edged by a mob of mint.  The door is not seen by passers-by.  And yet, it is the most gracefully adorned exit from inside the house.

Lace-edged curtains seem to droop a profusion of daisy-looking flowers, that part just enough to show the swaying green trees mingled with blue sky outside.  A silvery white, diamond-shaped bead garland stretches across the doorpost and sprays a gleam here, a glint there - something pleasing to glimpse.  A gold-lined frosted-glass angel, with wings whispering mid-flight and a held breath about to create the first notes from a musical lute, hangs from the curtain rod.  I imagine a blessing sprinkles down as someone leaves through that back door.

But, I wonder, am I always receptive to that blessing?  Often, my shoulders are tensed with the day's concerns and irritations - the long list of items left unaccomplished.  Is it like that for you, too, friend?  Do failures and nonfulfillments distract you from that which you did do, today - no matter how few those achievements have been?

Let's imagine a blessing sprinkling down on us, today.  And, instead of passing by unaware, lift your head and smile - knowing that if nothing else today, you let some joy seep hope into your heart.  A hope that is sure to grow and spread like mint.