Things I Wish I Had Written

Adding to my long list of Things I Wish I Had Written...

...this enchanting story in yesterday's New York Times about a boy in a restaurant. It is just lovely.

...and this beautiful dedication from Marion Rust's book Prodigal Daughters.

She writes,

"I hope someday you [her children] take this one off the shelf and have a look. Your faces are on every page.

My father, Ted Rust, listened to me as though I were a grown-up when I was five and played duets with me before I was eight. From him, I learned to converse, as well as the pleasure of working alone at something one loves.

My brother, Daniel, flew off the bicycle jump he'd built in front of our house, both wheels high in the sky, to show me that words weren't everything.

My mother, Rainy, introduced me to the following: how to make a six-inch blackberry pie, the fine sand of Rose Hill, Ontario, and the ocean-ground gravel of Cronkite, California; cassoulet and potatoes with cauliflower; mouse houses; Bob Marley after work; swimming slowly; dancing after dinner; reading all night; endurance. Gratitude that deepens with every day. This book is for my dream come true, my mom."

I just adore every thoughtful detail filled with the best memories.

Holidays about gratitude and thanks should all begin this way, thinking of everyone you love at their best on their most sunkissed day.