Debbie Fair Books
Welcome Dear Readers and Friends. . .
Thanks for stopping by. I hope you are enjoying my first published book: PIERRE LAFOE, A STORY OF TRYING SOMETHING NEW
�
On this website, I plan to share more of my writings as a gift of appreciation for visiting me here. Enjoy this tribute I wrote about my best childhood day.
�
THE BEST DAY
The best day of my childhood is not a party day or a travel day.
It is just a Saturday when everyone is home.
It is a spring day.
Everything is waking up.
The air is full of beginnings and dreams as weightless as floating feathers.
In my bedroom, the sun is dancing.
It plays hide and seek with the curtains.
My sheets smell like my mother’s perfume from last night’s sweet dreams hug.
Everything that matters is right here.
It is a Saturday and everyone is home.
I have baby chicks in the yard – Easter gifts.
They come in foolish bright colored down of pink and green.
I love them most for their curiosity, their constant commentary, their staccato harmonies, their songs of exuberant exploration.
I wake to their beckoning melodies, smelling the green of the sprinkler on the lawn, feeling the rasp of shovel on rock.
Someone is digging in the garden.
Everything that matters is right here.
It is a Saturday and everyone is home.
Barefoot in the swing, my princess throne suspended.
My grandmother hangs white sheets on the line.
My mother cleans and sings inside a house of open windows.
My grandpa plants thoughts of peas and beans in the garden.
I am only a wisp of reality, lighthearted as the clouds, curious and exuberant as the baby chicks, heart and soul as clean and unsoiled as the freshly laundered sheets.
I know nothing of heartache or disappointments or shattered dreams or intent to harm.
My world is lit with innocence and love.
Everything that matters is right here.
It is a Saturday and everyone is home.
The best day is my talisman of hope.
The luminous child is my friend.
We swing safe inside the backyard fence.
It surrounds the kingdom of home.
Grandpa looks up and gives us smiles.
Mother blows kisses from the window.
We lean our heads back and smell only promise.
We hear only sounds of love.
We swing together in the dancing sun and sing a song in time to our freedom.
I ask her what she wishes for and she laughs.
That’s a silly question.
Everything that matters is right here.
It is a Saturday and everyone is home.
I hope you remember your “BEST DAY” and treasure it. I will be posting new stories and essays here monthly as I work toward publishing my next book. If you send your email or a text number to