“Rare is the union of beauty and purity.”
I have two sons whose personalities are as different as the seasons. The younger at age fourteen, is tow-haired, blue-eyed, sensitive, free-spirited, emotional, empathetic and kind. The elder, at sixteen, is dark in coloring, taciturn, responsible, diplomatic, witty and charming. The younger enjoys exotic and spicy cuisine – the elder prefers a more conventional menu. I can’t think of anything I did differently in raising them, so chalk their differences up to genetics. Recently, while cleaning out a toy closet, I came across two letters both penned by my sons and more interestingly, both addressed to the tooth fairy. In between the lines of their childish scrawl written so many moons ago, their personalities once again are evident. One airs on the side of sentimental, the other strictly capitalist in tone. Can you guess who is who?
Spare (Defined) “Not currently in use; in reserve”
Glancing in the window of a recently closed children’s consignment shop, I spotted this tiny, orange sweater hanging forlornly in the now abandoned store front. I pondered why this one vibrant item adorned with teddy bears, remained. Perhaps a testament to a dream that was not to be or more simply that the sweater was left in haste? I like to interpret it as a statement of fortitude left behind from the proprietor. A symbol that whatever the future brings, he or she will survive. I shall leave the interpretation to you gentle readers, but this melancholy image brought to mind the word spare for this week’s challenge.
Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.