Small Miracles That Fix A Heavy Heart

Today, I was in a melancholic mood—I don’t know why. Maybe it was the sad movie I just watched, or perhaps because Mom and Grammy are both sick. 

Trying to find some positive vibes, I went to the porch and gazed at the clear sky and silent streets. The day is slow, I thought to myself. As if Mother Nature heard me, the once-clear sky began filling with dark grey clouds, and moments later, it started to rain. 

I stood under the awning, staring blankly at the falling droplets. But Mother Nature had other plans—plip—a raindrop landed on my nose. That tiny droplet was packed with life because it instantly lifted my mood, reigniting a spark of joy within me. 

Extending my hand, I let the rain fall onto it. Surprisingly, the raindrops felt warm—maybe because it was summer. Feeling bold and mischievous, I stepped out from under the awning and onto the road. The tiny droplets were refreshing, and soon, I was dancing in the rain. 

Letting my inner child loose, I jumped around in puddles, splash, splash, splash accompanying my wild moves. 

I must’ve looked crazy, but I didn’t care—who cares if I look crazy? I told myself. A grumpy old man with an umbrella on the opposite sidewalk frowned deeply, muttering to himself. I’m pretty sure I knew what he was saying: "Kids these days…"

But that didn’t deter me. I kept dancing, exaggerating my moves even more. Then—bark!—an adorable puppy joined me. 

At least, I thought it was a puppy—until the rain washed him clean, revealing his husky fur. Turns out, he was a full-grown dog! Together, we danced under the rain, and I must say, he was the best dance partner ever. 

As if to rain on our parade, the downpour stopped. Maybe Mother Nature’s way of saying, "Fun’s over." Grateful, I thanked her and headed back indoors, soaked to the bone—the dog following me. It struck me then: some of life’s best moments are unplanned, just like this. 

The petrichor filling the air was better than any perfume—an instant mood lifter. Do you love petrichor too? 

I opened the door silently to avoid the annoying creak and went inside. After giving the dog a bath, I let him sit by the window while I took a warm shower. 

Now, cozy in my pajamas, I sat by the window with a bowl of dog treats for my incredible dance partner—he deserved it. As he ate, I sipped warm berry tea. 

The rest of the time passed peacefully as we watched the world outside. Suddenly, the dog perked up, ears twitching. Surprised, I looked around but saw nothing—until I spotted a grandma in a floral hat across the street, accompanied (I assumed) by her grandchild, who bounced around with a leash, calling a name I couldn’t quite hear. As they got closer, it became clear: "Pages!" There had to be a story behind that name. 

Waving from my window, I pointed at the excited dog. The grandma noticed and guided the anxious child toward us. Soon, they were at my door, and I invited them in for tea, serving biscuits alongside. I noticed the dog now wore a collar—he must’ve lost it earlier. Naughty dog.

My real motive for inviting them in? Hearing the story behind "Pages." First, let me say—they were from a different street, which explained why I didn’t recognize him. Crossing an entire neighborhood? Now that’s an achievement. 

The tale, as they shared it, was hilarious. When they first brought him home as a puppy, the whole family debated names, but he ignored them all—preferring to shred the newspapers on the table. Finally, the boy’s mother yelled in frustration, "Stop it, Pages!"

The puppy froze, locking his sorrowful eyes on her before nudging the torn paper toward her. She couldn’t stay mad at that face—so she hugged him, and the name stuck. (Though it never stopped him from destroying newspapers!) 

After packing a box of cookies for the child, they left. What a wonderful experience. 

I took the empty tray and teacups to the kitchen, loading the dishwasher before starting a soup pot for dinner. On the worn wooden cutting board, I chop the onions to translucent moons, I chop the carrots into golden coins and parsley into confetti for broth.

Putting a wide pot on low flame I add the water and throw in the ingredients, cooking it on low flame I watch it all come together. Simmering in the heat, a delicious scent wafts the air. Nourishing the soul. It like a magical touch thay brings the ingredients together in a harmony. My only hope is it makes Mom and Grandma get better soon.

A wide pot , A low flame, 
I simmer the broth to heal. 
Toss in a slices of onion, 
I watch it sigh. 

A pinch of salt, A pinch of pepper,
Parsley whispers, "Love lives here." 

Stirring slow, I let time unfold.
A delicious scent fills the air.
Hope it works it's magic soon.

Mom and Grammy would be waking up from their nap soon. I hope the soup helps them feel better—but if not, my tale of the day surely will. 


A melancholy mood took hold of me, 
Like shadows stretching ‘cross the sea. 
Then came the rain—a sudden start, 
A droplet kissed my weary heart. 

I danced like wild, I splashed with glee, 
While grumpy folks glared grudgingly. 
A soggy pup joined in the spree— 
The best partner there e’er could be! 

Then came the boy who called him "Pages,"
Born from newsprint, torn in stages. 
A tale so sweet, it turned the key— 
And washed the gray right out of me. 

Now soup simmers, the sky’s gone gold, 
A story shared, a joy retold. 
For sometimes light will softly fall, 
Not in the sun—but in the squall.

Have you ever had a day like this? Do you ever let your inner child out to play—to dance, to splash, to live? And tell me: wasn’t Pages the best dance partner ever?

That's all! Have a nice day!