When they came home, I laid upon the soft spots at the bridges of their noses a kiss, which was more like a gulp for air. I desperately needed to drink in the kind of oxygen that only a mother’s children can bring to her when she learns another child has been hurt. I could barely breathe until they were in my arms again.
My heart breaks for the little children in the Connecticut shooting today. I hope that there really is a Great Beyond, and that in that place, all parents will one day hold their precious babies again.
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Published by Jenny
Like a magpie, I've always been drawn to things that have sparkle, from rhinestone-embellished housewares to gold lamé get-ups in second-hand stores to shoes that reflect in the sun. But in my interactions with the world, oh, how I can fixate on the not-sparkly stuff: ill-timed traffic lights, a web page that won't load, the impolite server.
Post-pandemic, I took to saying, "Everything's broken, and nothing works." It's not good for the soul, and as a lifelong writer, I've noticed it's also not good for creativity. This blog is about redirecting my attention to what's good in the world -- seeking and finding joy in the same way I notice sparkly objects around me -- and writing about it.
There is an old nursery rhyme about magpies, "One for Sorrow," which tells us a solitary magpie symbolizes sorrow, but two magpies symbolize joy. This blog is about looking harder for the good stuff. Here's to finding those second magpies.
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The Second Magpie 
You have said what I had in my heart but couldn’t find the words. Thank you, my daughter.
Thanks, Ma. 🙂 xo
Beautiful. Thank you, Jenny.
Thanks, Ellie. Take care.