Posted in Writing Life

Buddha’s Flowers on Christmas

Click to enlarge
Click to enlarge

I saw the day come into the sky this morning and waited for my family to awake. There was peace and there was joy, like the songs, like the face of the cloth bag monk. You can see him on the table to the right with the flowers and oranges, which did not fit into stockings. He is the happy guy as we call him, an incarnation of Maitreya, who is a future Buddha who will come to the world in human form to lovingly bring enlightenment. All cultures have these stories. We all need them. They bring hope in the face of pain, past or present.

For my children this morning there was surprise and delight: a blessing as A and I basked in it. I made French toast for breakfast–I the non-cook in the family. Listening to Handel on the radio, I made fruit salad with berries, a winter luxury, and French toast, served with maple syrup from Nova Scotia, where resides a very special friend who sent it to me and my family. Thank you!

xmas french toast



Lilian is the author of Web of Angels, a novel about a mom with DID (multiple personalities). She's also the author of the historical novels, The River Midnight and The Singing Fire, about secrets, friendship and motherhood in 19th century Poland and London.

4 thoughts on “Buddha’s Flowers on Christmas

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