And then he comes to me with a handful of sparkling beauty, stones that are in the mix, but because they've been hunted, discovered, they are treasure right there on the dirt.
And we drink up the hot, minty tea-water that soothes the soul and warms the belly, Right out in that Winter. My soul is warm, satisfied.
The boys dig, and I count. I number on paper the ways I have loved my Grandpa. The ways he loved me. And my achy soul is soothed, I am hunting treasure too.
...our lives are never quite the same after we spend time hunting treasure. We always, always find it. And our eyes are tuned in a bit more to the beauty found right in the middle of Winter.
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