My love is like a waterfall. It flows with force, freely, unwilling to resist the precipice.

I give and I give and I give, and I live better because of this. Service is a smile; it’s a rush.

Sometimes, when love flows over me, over the rocks of my life, washing stumbles away, my eyes get a little mist. it’s when thanks is too humble a word for something so meaningful and robust.

It’s refreshing when unbidden words and deeds come my way, a return on an investment that was my gift. A waterfall needs rainwater to replenish the self.

Even rainstorms in one’s life have purpose: to allow one to be a recipient.