My policy is not to go out to paint in the weekends
When throngs of people are out and about
But I agreed to do something outside my comfort level
To be one of 4 artists to do demos on the grounds
Of the new public garden being officially opened in Riverwood
 
The Mayor of Mississauga, Hazel MacCallion was going to be there
She arrived royally late with no pomposity in the rain
The crowds just loved her and her zealous speech 
Spoken off the cuff  without so much as a piece of paper hidden in her sleeves
I have seen her many a times on TV
But was my first time seeing her in flesh and blood
I've admired her so from afar
At this petite, fiery, boundlessly energetic woman of 92

I heard once how a depressed man
Refused to come down from his roof
How many neighbors, friends, family, firemen and policemen 
Tried to cajole him 
To retouch his feet with the ground
He refused but asked to speak to Hazel
Who as tho was his personal Grandmother, arrived
Spoke a few words that touched his heart and senses
Which then lead him to finally make the much applauded descent

Sorry, I disgressed, had to tell you that amusing story
To illustrate my admiration for this spunky, ubiquitous lady
I coverted having a photo taken with her
So maybe by sheer osmosis, I too can suck some of her juice for life
But I chickened out, not wanting to impose on her space
Just to be content with a photo of her taken with my own camera lens

I stood a painting underneath my tent 
A great opportunity to meet so many people young and mature
Amongst them two women whose sons were killed by drunk drivers
And had come to see the trees they had donated in their loved ones' names

I met some of the tireless Board Members who had worked behind the scenes
Accosted by dear friends I hadn't seen in a while
The many cheery garden volunteers who prune, transplant, trim and water each week
The voluminous species of plants now thriving under their wonderful loving care
For all of us to enjoy as we stroll amongst the beds.....

I for one, will shed all reluctance 
To paint the joyous faces of these flowers
In the middle of the path of  this busy garden 
Where many come to visit, ponder and reflect
Where I too hope to hear Nature whisper in my sometimes deaf ear......

I met this little girl
Sitting by the door of a basilica church in Florence
I was told she was one of the many gypsy children 
Lost in the tourist crowds  begging each day

She spotted me looking at her from afar
I so wanted to capture her delicacy in a photograph
She looked down, shy, embarrassed....
I thought she looked like she rather be outside playing

Hey hey little girl
I've thought of you often
You may have been forced into a life of begging or even thievery
Through generational circumstances uncontrollable by you

As I walked by her
I dropped a few Euro change into her small palm
She looked up at me
And her face cracked into a smile
With her beautiful greenish-brown,glassy eyes

Later in the day our paths crossed again
She happily pointed me out to her unsmiling Mom
I was embarrassed that I had not  given her a couple of million Euros 
To have elicited such a grateful emotion
 
May you unfold as you bloom
Into this beautiful flower 
For the world to behold your sweet, innocent beauty
While society around you is trying to figure out 
What to do with your dear people

May you have a stirring awakening within you 
To seek a path that is strangely outside the norm that has been laid before you
It need not be as it had been for your mother and foremothers
When you lay your head down at nite 
And gaze up to the star studded sky
Know that there is a special star for you to touch and to own
OWN it and be the shinning Star yourself......

And when I meet you in the sky
I am sure I'll  recognise you right away......