It's the Little Things | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant memoirs of the Rabbit Patch, where her diaries weave tales of a simpler, expressive life lost to many, but gathered together in her most familiar environs - the Rabbit Patch.

    By most accounts, the last Sunday in October, passed in an ordinary fashion. The sun came up and brought its' shine. The laughing Pasquatank River , like a mirror reflected the glory the sky yielded. Lately, the river has looked like glass every day Will, saw the whole thing and it made me sorry I had missed it. It also made me glad he did not. It said something about him that words will not do justice to explain.

    Lyla woke up, and not long after waking, said "Honeybee". Now, that was "golden". I have been "Bee" just a short while and now "hu -bee" this Sunday morning!

    Late in the morning, Lyla and I took our walk. It was an especially warm day. We met a neighbor , the owner of one of the tiny cottages, that I adore. She was as gracious in spirit, as her home is in charm. I could tell that I liked her right off. She even extended an invitation for a visit-and I look forward to that.

    A few blocks over, two small sisters were literally dancing around, as children are apt to when they feel joyful. "Tomorrow is Halloween!" rang out and "No school either!" You couldn't help but be happy with that kind of celebration going on. I hope I see them tomorrow night.

    In the afternoon, Will visited his mom, who lives just five minutes away. She sent me a book, that is sure to be a favorite. as the subject is Christmas. It is a collection of old fashioned recipes, old photographs and Christmas literature-even carols.

    In the quiet of the evening hours, I thought about all of the moments the day had held. It is the little things that had made the difference. From Will's account of the sunrise to Lyla's good morning "honeybee"-from the sisters' dance , to meeting a friendly neighbor. . . and the gift of a Christmas book, I love-I thought about how all days are made up of moments and if I but consider the contents of any ordinary one of them-It is likely I will find something to be glad about.