The Five Golden Orbs – My Gift to You!

“Always remember the brightest light of all shines from a loving heart. ~ Plh”

And now I present to you a short inspirational holiday story I wrote several years ago and happily share with you. It can be read to children as it reminds us of the importance of giving. Please enjoy:

five glowing orbs

The Five Golden Orbs

The children found them hidden inside the bushes in the back yard just as the sun was setting. They noticed the glow of lights coming from within the small holly bush. Mystified, they walked slowly up to the shining bush and peered in through the holly leaves.

Five shining orbs of gold lay nestled, hidden in the crooks of the branches inside the bush.

“What are they?” The girl child asked.

“I don’t know!” The boy child answered.

They were curious and the glow coming from the shiny orbs was not scary. The emitting light was golden and soft.

one golden orbThe boy reached in and grabbed one of the orbs. It was warm to the touch. But not too warm, just pleasantly so. The girl seeing that the orb rested comfortably in the boy’s hand reached in and grabbed another orb. She held it close and stared at the swirling light shining from within.

“They are pretty, aren’t they?” She said.

“Yes, yes they are.” He replied. “Lets take the rest of them and go inside.” He didn’t wait for her answer, just reached inside the bush and pulled out two more. “You get the last one, but come on let’s hurry before anyone sees them.”

She followed his directions, first grabbing the last golden orb in her free hand and then hurrying after him orbs on flooras he ran into the house, carefully cradling the glowing orbs in his arms.

They walked through the hallway into the tiny living room and laid the golden balls on the wooden floor. The orbs were shining even brighter than before.

To the small boy and girl, sitting on the floor of the poorly lit living room, this glorious glow was a thrilling one. Their father was working late again but they knew he’d be home soon and would expect his meal laid out for him. The Christmas tree they had convinced him to bring home the day before stood dark and lonely in one corner of the room, on the other side was the table where they had laid out his bowl, cup and spoon. His soup was in the cooking pot waiting to be served.

The children looked from the orbs to the tree and got the same idea at the same time. Excitedly they the golden Christmas treegrabbed up the glowing orbs and placed them in different places throughout the tree. Each ball settled into it’s spot as if it belonged there. When they were done, they stood back and looked at the Christmas tree. It was now lit up with a golden glow that cast away the shadows in the room and illuminated everything, making them feel like they were rich and not so very poor.

They stood there viewing the beautiful lit up tree and then the girl had a sudden thought. With a worried look on her face she turned to her brother and said, “What about Hanna?”

“What about her?” He answered.

“Well, it’s just that her cottage is so very dark, if we took one of these shiny orbs to her, she could place it somewhere in her room and be able to see better at night!”

“That’s true,” He said. “And you know that Bertha and Henry’s cottages, a little further away, have the same orbs on the floorproblem with not having much light in their homes.” And as the children talked they thought of two more neighbors who they could share the shiny light of their orbs with.

Hurrying quickly they removed the five orbs out of their Christmas tree and carried them down the lane to each of their needy neighbors who, with great pleasure and astonishment, accepted the gift of a brightly lit orb.

The children raced back to the house feeling good inside as they thought of the pleasure they had brought to their friends and neighbors.

They were silent and a little disappointed as they walked inside their hut, realizing they wouldn’t have a brightly lit tree to show their father. Still they did feel good about the gifts they had given. As they walked into the living area of their hut they stopped suddenly staring at the sight in front of them. Where they had expected a darkened tree was a magnificently glowing Christmas tree shining from top to bottom with a most wonderful golden radiance.

“But how can this be?” The little girl asked with wonder. “We gave the orbs away!”

The little boy shook his head, gazing in amazement at the beautiful sight in front of him. They both heard the front door open and their weary dad trudge into the house. Looking once more at their shiny golden tree, they then ran to greet their father and share this wonderful gift with him.

The tree shone brightly, the light following in the footsteps of two little children who, without realizing, had given and received the most perfect gift of all.

Merry Christmas

“When you give with love in your heart ~ your gift will return to you!” ~ Penny L Howe

~

Happy holidays to all,

Penny

Have you ever noticed – The thing is …

peace_of_mind-wide

 

The thing is … Today – truth,  fact and social media hype seem to be closely related, meaning you’re not ever sure about what’s being said. And this holds true whether its on the news, or as I mentioned above in one of the social media platforms. Some things however, we just know.  We do!

and

The thing is … when it comes to love and peace on this beautiful planet of ours, the far majority of people want peace and love – A truth. They want to live a life of freedom and dignity. As I just said, simple truths. It is Power, Greed, Hatred, and Fear that essentially interferes with these goals.

Today a good day for love, global love.

With affection,

~ Penny

The Golden Orbs ~ My Christmas Gift to you, by request!

Two years ago I wrote an inspirational short Christmas Story. Last year I shared it and recently, I was asked if I would share it again this year. I am very happy to do so. Please enjoy!

five glowing orbs

The Five Golden Orbs

The children found them hidden inside the bushes in the back yard just as the sun was setting. They noticed the glow of lights coming from within the small holly bush. Mystified, they walked slowly up to the shining bush and peered in through the holly leaves.

Five shining orbs of gold lay nestled, hidden in the crooks of the branches inside the bush.

“What are they?” The girl child asked.

“I don’t know!” The boy child answered.

They were curious and the glow coming from the shiny orbs was not scary. The emitting light was golden and soft.

one golden orbThe boy reached in and grabbed one of the orbs. It was warm to the touch. But not too warm, just pleasantly so. The girl seeing that the orb rested comfortably in the boy’s hand reached in and grabbed another orb. She held it close and stared at the swirling light shining from within.

“They are pretty, aren’t they?” She said.

“Yes, yes they are.” He replied. “Lets take the rest of them and go inside.” He didn’t wait for her answer, just reached inside the bush and pulled out two more. “You get the last one, but come on let’s hurry before anyone sees them.”

She followed his directions, first grabbing the last golden orb in her free hand and then hurrying after him orbs on flooras he ran into the house, carefully cradling the glowing orbs in his arms.

They walked through the hallway into the tiny living room and laid the golden balls on the wooden floor. The orbs were shining even brighter than before.

To the small boy and girl, sitting on the floor of the poorly lit living room, this glorious glow was a thrilling one. Their father was working late again but they knew he’d be home soon and would expect his meal laid out for him. The Christmas tree they had convinced him to bring home the day before stood dark and lonely in one corner of the room, on the other side was the table where they had laid out his bowl, cup and spoon. His soup was in the cooking pot waiting to be served.

The children looked from the orbs to the tree and got the same idea at the same time. Excitedly they the golden Christmas treegrabbed up the glowing orbs and placed them in different places throughout the tree. Each ball settled into it’s spot as if it belonged there. When they were done, they stood back and looked at the Christmas tree. It was now lit up with a golden glow that cast away the shadows in the room and illuminated everything, making them feel like they were rich and not so very poor.

They stood there viewing the beautiful lit up tree and then the girl had a sudden thought. With a worried look on her face she turned to her brother and said, “What about Hanna?”

“What about her?” He answered.

“Well, it’s just that her cottage is so very dark, if we took one of these shiny orbs to her, she could place it somewhere in her room and be able to see better at night!”

“That’s true,” He said. “And you know that Bertha and Henry’s cottages, a little further away, have the same orbs on the floorproblem with not having much light in their homes.” And as the children talked they thought of two more neighbors who they could share the shiny light of their orbs with.

Hurrying quickly they removed the five orbs out of their Christmas tree and carried them down the lane to each of their needy neighbors who, with great pleasure and astonishment, accepted the gift of a brightly lighted orb.

The children raced back to the house feeling good inside as they thought of the pleasure they had brought to their friends and neighbors.

They were silent and a little disappointed as they walked inside their hut, realizing they wouldn’t have a beautifully lit tree to show their father. Still they did feel good about the gifts they had given. As they walked into the living area of their hut they stopped suddenly staring at the sight in front of them. Where they had expected a darkened tree was a magnificently glowing Christmas tree shining from top to bottom with a most wonderful golden radiance.

“But how can this be?” The little girl asked with wonder. “We gave the orbs away!”

The little boy shook his head, gazing in amazement at the beautiful sight in front of him. They both heard the front door open and their dad trudge into the house. Looking once more at their shiny golden tree, they then ran to greet their father and share this wonderful gift with him.

The tree shone brightly, the light following in the footsteps of two little children who, without realizing, had given and received the most perfect gift of all.

Merry Christmas

“When you give with love in your heart ~ your gift will return to you” ~ Penny L Howe

~

May your holiday be filled with the Light of Love, shining for all to see and feel!

Happy holidays to all,

Penny

Sunday Photo Fiction – There’s A Dragon on my Bedpost!

Photo Prompt for This weeks Writer’s Challenge:

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photograph © Alastair Forbes

My Entry:

Dragon On My Bed Post

Briefly opening my eyes, I rolled over on my side and considered staying in bed longer. After all it was Sunday.  Dozing off, I heard a loud cough and a caustic voice which had me reopening my eyes and sitting up in bed with pounding heart.

“Would you mind, terribly, waking up, I’m getting bored sitting here.” The creature attached to the voice said.

There at the foot of my bed, sitting atop one of the bedposts was a miniature dragon, a surly look on his face.

I stared, rubbed my eyes and stared again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m real.” He responded to my obvious expression of disbelief.

“Um, you’re a dragon.” I said incredulously.

“He speaks and has some intelligence,” was the dragons reply.

“Wh … what are you doing here … are you real?” I asked.

“Hmm, I spoke too soon,” the dragon added. “Yes I-am-real, you’re talking to me aren’t you? And I’m here doing penance for something I shouldn’t have done, so I have to stay with a human for twenty four hours. My punishment.”

“Staying with me is a punishment?” I asked.

“You have no idea,” he said. A great deal of derision in his voice.

“Why me?” I asked.

“Why not?” He answered with a smirk.

“Why Earth, then?” I said, continuing to ask what I thought were fair questions upon finding a dragon in your bedroom.

“Because this is the worst place the Committee for Criminal Offenses could come up with on short notice.”

“Earth the worst place, ah, come on now,”  I said, preparing to defend my home planet.

“Gee let me see …” He held up one of his claws and ticked off each point he made. “Well, you not only kill each other out of hatred and greed, but you consume far more than you should and are systematically killing off other life forms on your planet and…”

“Okay, okay,” I sighed. “You’ve made you’re point.” Changing the subject I said, “So you have to stay here for 24 hours?”

“Yeah, 24 lousy hours. Say you don’t happen to have a cigarette on you … well not on you but… do you smoke?” He asked, looking hopefully around the room.

“No, you can get lung cancer from smoking,” I answered.

“Dragons can’t.”

“Oh okay, and no I don’t have any cigarettes. So why are you in trouble?”

“For smoking.” He replied.

“That’s a criminal offense?” I said.

“Yeah, just one cig. and my fire breathing capabilities go out the window. I become useless in the defense of my lair, not enough flame left to even light a cigarette.”

“Well I can see where that would be bad. So do you have a name?” I asked.

“Yes, yes I have a name. You have a name don’t you? Of course I have a name!” He was back to being rude and surly again.

“I’m called Puff, I’m Puff the magic dragon and don’t say a word about that stupid song. I’m still living that one down … frolicking? FROLICKING? Dragons don’t friggin’ frolick.”

He let out an irritated sound with a blast of steam and said, “The next time I sneak a smoke …” He paused but I could see he was really worked up so I kept my silence as he finished with …“I’ll make gosh darn sure no one can see me. Oh, just go back to sleep.”

“Earthlings!” He muttered, sticking his head under his wing, steam seeping out.

*

For more information about Sunday Photo Fiction and how you can enter click here for the details. Alastair, the host with the most will take you through the steps. And, while there, be sure to click on the little blue guy for more short stories by some great writers!

Thanks for stopping by, hope you enjoyed,

~ Penny

Sunday Photo Fiction: Troubled Waters Bridge!

89-11-november-30th-2014

photograph © Alastair Forbes

 

Photo prompt of a bridge going over a small river:

 

Not my usual gig.

I’m a detective. Wat (pronounced watt, short for ‘Waters’) Allen Bridge, my name. ‘Wat’ a nickname I got as a kid who loved being in the water more than anything else.

Anyway, I would have turned this gig or job down, except the money was too good, I was down to my last sawbuck and then there were the usual enticements; gorgeous sexy broad in fear for her life, hidden stash of cash, mob involvement … yada yada yada.

Like I said, all the usual we P.I.’s get our kicks out of … with one exception. The fish bowl.

Lily, that’s the broad’s name, came in carrying a fish bowl with obligatory goldfish, mermaid, fake sea grass and a closed miniature treasure chest sitting on some gravel inside. The water swishing along with the dame as she walked over and set the bowl on my desk.

‘What’s with the fish bowl, doll?” I asked.

She explained. According to his will, inside the closed treasure chest were a portion of the remains of her deceased husband. Not missing a trick I said, “Yeah if his remains are in there, he’s definitely deceased!” She wasn’t amused. She told me that inside the remains, inside the treasure chest was a key. A key to the location of a million dollars.

The problem was she couldn’t bring herself to open the miniature chest and dig through her husband’s remains to get the key. Which I could understand being a sensitive guy, but a million smackers is still a million smackers and for what I was being paid, no prob. I could get my fingers wet and open the sucker… or so I thought.

But the more I thought about it, well it kinda’ started to bother me too. Putting my fingers inside his remains just seemed, well, weird.

So here we sit staring at the fishbowl. I am troubled.

*

Hope I made you smile, at least a little bit!

For more information about Sunday Photo Fiction click here for the details. Alastair will be your capable and caring guide. And, while there, be sure to click on the little blue guy for more short stories by some great writers!

Thanks for stopping by, have a great Sunday and week ahead,

~ Penny

Sunday Photo Fiction: Formation of stars – fantasy style

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photograph © Alastair Forbes

*

He gazed at the formation of icicles. The first two stars were shaping up nicely but the third one, he was having some problems with that one. Well great! This meant another trip. Another one of those long and lengthy and wearisome trips. Sighing, he grumbled, Ah well, best be on my way.

Retreating back inside his remote mountainside cabin, he grabbed a few essentials, placing them carefully into his knapsack, all the while figuring in his head how long the trip would be and what to take. He thrust ancient arms into a thick overcoat, hung his loaded knapsack over his shoulder and then pulled on heavily padded gloves. He was ready for his trek down the mountain.

Another sigh as he started on his way. Just a few feet from the cabin a soft whine to his left stopped him in his tracks. He smiled, turning towards the sound. “Hey Prince, my friend, in my hurry I almost forgot you fella.” The wolf smiled, a wolfish type of grin on his dark muzzle and trotted up beside him.

“You up for a trip?” The wolf cocked his head and stared directly back at him.

“Yeah, me neither, best get this over with though. I need that third star. You know what time of the year it is?” As if in agreement the wolf headed off down the mountain.

The two made good time together, stopping only for quick bites of dried food and brief resting spells before moving on. At last they came to the city.

The wolf left him just at the edge of the forest clearing. He continued on into the city. It was night time so fewer people to notice the stranger, but around him an extra shroud of darkness, assuring no one did. Making his way to the outside of a high-rise apartment building, in a very run down section of the city, he climbed the fire escape until  reaching the forth floor. Peering inside the dirty cracked window he saw a mother singing a lullaby to a small child. He waited patiently for her to finish.

When her song was over she kissed the sleeping child gently and closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer that all would be well. The essence of her pure and loving thoughts made its way across the room, passing through the window crack and into the small container he held carefully in his hands. Once the vapor was inside, he stoppered the bottle, placed it back inside his rucksack, and then climbed down the stairs, walked through the city and out into the forest where the wolf waited. The wolf looked expectantly at him.

“Yes,” I’ve got it.” He said to the wolf. “So easy to find. Just follow the trail of goodness and honest caring.” They made their trip home and upon arrival he carried the vessel, filled with the essence of love, over to the icicles.

As he poured the vapor over the third icicle, the ends of the icicle formed into a third star. “Yup that oughta do it.” He said to the wolf. “They’ll be up in the sky in no time, glowing brightly.”

“With so much open space in the heavens …” he said later that evening to his friend the wolf, as they sat gazing up at the star lit sky in contemplation of life, “… it’s a good thing love is still to be had. I don’t know how we’d make our new stars without it.”

space

*

Yes, another longer short story (that sounds silly doesn’t it). Hope a few of you enjoyed, however! Sorry it isn’t scary, or horrifying or sad, or depressing or in any other way negative. I figure real life seems to have a pretty good lock on that one right now, for many, so I went to a different place.

If you’d like to try your hand at writing a story for Sunday Photo Fiction where the photograph is the prompt for your imagination, click here for the details. Alastair will guide you along your way. And, while there, be sure to click on the little blue guy for more short stories by some great writers!

Have a great week ahead,

~ Penny

A Passion for the Written Word.

Whether you are a dedicated writer or an avid reader, it is passion that moves you.

For the writer it is the longing to write, his or her passion – to embrace the muse. For the reader of the written word, their desire – to be passionately moved by the words in some manner.

The following prose is a dedication to those who love to read and write, for it is a truth; you cannot truly have one without the other.

Passions From Within

There is that … in your words,

exciting passions from within.

Ethereal and gentle they provoke

a lingering, craving, longing, intensity

from the reader.

Your words move, readers slide into your words

lulled senses alive.

 Honed words are your tools to be shaped.

Passion ignites –

endless and enduring from the written word.

Your passion for writing … to be shared with the reader.

~

Penny L Howe

Sunday Photo Fiction – Leave the Light Off.

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photograph © Alastair Forbes

In folklore, telling someone you’d leave the light on for them was a friendly way of saying you looked forward to their visit. But that was in another time, another place and as far as John was concerned a completely other existence from his current one.

Hiding out in the decrepit old mansion he was pleased there was no electricity. He looked forward to the safety of darkness soon to envelop the estate with the coming night. He felt safer in the dark.

Which was rather amusing in light of things, he thought, giving out a harsh bark of laughter. And then repeating to himself, “In light of things. Too funny, I made a pun.” No pleasure in his laughter, though.

It was a truthful pun. As a child he’d been deathly afraid of the dark and always had a night light on to feel okay before he’d sleep.

Now, a light on meant someone would know he was here. He glanced up at the silently mocking chandelier. Life did work in mysterious ways. He sighed a weary sigh, and settled in to wait for the safety of the lightless night.

***

To take part in this writer’s challenge, just check in here at Sunday Photo Fiction Your host, Alastair, will guide you through the process. To read other entries (fun and well written), click on the little blue link box, while there.

Hope your enjoyed, thanks for stopping by,

With a little bit of whimsy relating to light, does anyone remember where the following humorous phrase originated from: “Put the candle BACK!” (I just love this movie by the way, tons and tons!)

~ Penny

In Search of the Perfect Soul!

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He was the leader of a large country of substantial wealth. He had great power but was a good ruler, yet he was not satisfied. He went forth to his advisers (the wisest men he knew) and asked of them “How can I know if I have a perfect soul?”

His counselors conferred among themselves and being wise indeed said, “Oh omnipotent ruler, yours is the perfect soul! There can be none finer.”

But the ruler wasn’t satisfied with this answer, for he did not know himself if this was true. How did one measure the worth and value of a perfect soul?

He called forth all of his couriers and instructed them to scour the land and find perfect souls so he could compare himself to them.

While he waited for their return he thought about his personal assets as it related to being a human being. Was he worthy? A perfect soul had become increasingly important to him for some reason that he could not fathom.

Some time later his couriers returned, each with new ideas for what the perfect soul would contain but none had returned with a “perfect soul”. Still, one and all proclaimed that their ruler indeed was in possession of the perfect soul. And yet he pondered and worried about whether it was true.

So he sent forth a new quest in his land. He asked the question “What is the perfect soul”? He proclaimed that the one who best answered his question would have all the riches he or she could desire.

Crowds of his people flocked to the courts. Each person given the unique opportunity for a private audience with their king to answer the question.

As the days and months past the king became more convinced that there was no such thing as the perfect soul. Many very wise and some equally foolish people past his door to share their understanding of a perfect soul. The goal for most of them, of course, promised riches for the right answer.

One day the king, becoming overly weary of the same responses, dismissed everyone. He told all those in the great halls to depart, he wanted peace, relief from the noisy cacophony of his people. As the assembly hall emptied he noticed a slightly golden glow emanating from a simply clothed figure sitting unnoticed in the corner of the great hall.

The king now alone in the room, except for this one unassuming figure, approached her. At first glance she appeared quite nondescript but her calm demeanor and manner belied her rather ordinary physical appearance. As he came to stand next to her, she lifted her eyes and gazed deeply into his. She smiled a soothing smile.

“My king”. She said bowing her head and then returning her gentle gaze upon him.

He didn’t know what made him ask this person, this least of all individuals, his important question but he did.

“How can I know if I have the perfect soul?” He asked.

She thought for a moment and then responded, the glow of her own soul shining clear and strong as she replied.

“Your soul seeks to be full and complete, even on the most difficult of your lifetime days of activities. Your soul strives mightily on your behalf. You need search no further. Be at peace, your soul will answer your question in it’s own time. You are a good man and a great king, live your life now, quest no more for the answer. It will find it’s way to you as is the way of all souls.”

“How can you be sure?” He asked this soft spoken woman.

The pure radiance of light that now shone from her was near onto blinding the kings eyes, yet he stood firm and waited for her answer … and it came, simply and with no fanfare, just a surety and certainty that wiped away his doubts, worries and fears.

Her answer – I believe!

*

Thank you,

~ Penny