There is a squirrel’s nest high in the tree. I see it now that leaves have begun to fall and am reminded of Miss Suzy, one of my favorite childhood books. A copy sits on a shelf in the living room, and I take it down to remember.
Miss Suzy was a little gray squirrel who lived all by herself in the tip. tip, top of a tall oak tree. She liked to cook, she liked to clean, and she liked to sing while she worked. . .Miss Suzy by Miriam Young
I loved Miss Suzy’s cozy house and the way she sang as she baked and tidied up. I love the way she nested and how she cleaned and straightened the dollhouse in the attic when she was run out of her treetop home by a band of red squirrels. I love how she found the toy soldiers and took care of them like a mother and how she finally was able to tell them her story, inspiring them to take action on her behalf.
Late that night the captain woke his men and gave them their orders. There were only five of them, but they were very brave, and their hearts were full of love. After all, Miss Suzy had cared for them all winter.Miss Suzy by Miriam Young
This look up at a squirrel’s nest took my heart to a young place. It found something in a dark corner of it that I had forgotten was there. Nurture.
November is traditionally a month to give thanks, a practice that would be wise to employ year-round. This month I hope to look up and around at the goodness that surrounds me, growing in gratitude and contentment for these beautiful gifts.
It is a bit of a bind that we live in, the marriage of goodness and grief. There is no one ideal situation, and many have been led astray and even harmed with the promise of such. If only. . .thens rarely pan out. What we have is a present mingling of both.
I want to believe that I live out of my ideal self always, yet, sadly I don’t. If I’m honest it’s less-than-ideal. Surrounded by much goodness I focus on the bad, the hard, the grief.
And there is a place for that. There is always a place for lament. For honesty. For things to be not okay. I am not talking about it could be worse or any category that begins with the words at least.
I am talking about where I find myself this season. I need to keep looking up.
For me that means continuing to write on the blog rather than focusing on all that I didn’t write.
With that focus, I plan to write a little each day about whatever comes. I trust that there will be moments of looking up in gratitude for where I am and hopefulness for where I am going.
Life is a beautifully messy journey, and I don’t want to miss mine.
Miss Suzy had to work hard to make her old home as neat and cozy as it had been before, but she didn’t mind. She made a new moss carpet and a new broom and gathered fresh acorns for cups and caught two fireflies for her lamps. At last she had everything in order.
That night, when she went to bed, she was very tired. But she looked through the branches and she could see a million stars. The wind blew gently and rocked the tree like a cradle. It was very peaceful, and Miss Suzy was happy once more.Miss Suzy by Miriam Young, ending.