My heart is being mellowed. I have a choice. I can let the seasons of life make me hard, cynical, and disappointed, or I can allow the hands of Love to place their pressured thumbprints on my heart, and give me hope that the sun will rise, and wings will fly again. The entrance is a narrow gate; the destination is a broad place.
DISQUS
Tuesday 18 November 2014
Great little comments this morning from April Ross