Words about contentment inspired this series that celebrates ingenuity, creativity, and resourcefulness. Join me in the comments and share what you've done with what you have.
A sore throat, a sore tummy, and a boy with a rumpled brow who just didn't think he could do school that day. Sometimes we all need room for recovery.
Propped up with pillows, he listened to adventure, drank warmth, nibbled snacks. Nellie wondered and worried about her boy who wasn't playing. Long hours passed, the body was still sick, the brow was still furrowed, and everything was dull, drab, and uncomfortable.
Then, Bob Ross, that man with the big fuzzy hair, was on the screen with a blank canvas before him, his gentle voice a soothing cadence that drooped the boy's eyelids and set him across a pond of sleep. When he awoke, the painting was nearly finished, mountains having appeared out of nowhere, trees, and grass grown and full. The boy watched, transfixed at the hand of the artist.
Then he wanted to paint.
I didn't have oils, pastels, or even acrylics, but I did have watercolor. Perched at the table, with hair all askew, he took to the paper with brushes and water and paint. With nothing but open space before him, the thoughtful wanderings of a curious boy were soon traced in brushstrokes across the page. Gentle art for a boy (and mama) who needed it.
Do what you can with what you have.