The wind stirs the grasses, clinging to crevices in the rocks outside my Perch.
There’s a saying in the Talmud, “Every blade of grass has its angel that bends over it and whispers, ‘grow.’ ”
Today would’ve been Jud’s 79th birthday.
Call me nuts, but I still sense Jud whispering hope in my old ears and heart.
His encouragement’s not limited to “grow,” thankfully.
Got new hearing aides last week.
Don’t want to miss any whispers.
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