Emilia En L'air

SNOW ROADS, SNOW BUILDINGS, SNOW TREES is my world covered with snow. There’s no echo since the snow housed all the sounds inside each snow flake. I hear nothing-stillness…
I feel silence…
I see “nothing” in front of me, but a world of white. But when I look at the sky something magical takes place. The night is covered with colors. It’s the green sky, dancing with blues and shades of yellows and

reds from the dome of the Northern Lights in my home at the Alaskan winter nights. The sight of multiple colors brings my memories back, far away in time…
Bright colors I used to see everywhere at the streets of the tropical Brazilian life. I felt small- so small, as my mom held my tiny ten year old hand. One the other hand, my child size surf board I carried to Ipanema beach. Mom would take me to the sand- hot burning sand on my bare foot toes I would feel…
The waves, my tiny ears would hear breaking on the shore. The air- thick and warm-so hard to breathe…
Hot my skin would feel, but soon, I would surf the waves and cooler I would become. The waters of the beach would make me tumble around and about once I would fall down from my little surf board. I would gasp for air, for my breath under water- too long would be held. Sun down, my mom would once again hold my smallish hand. Now with flip-flops we would walk on the streets of Rio de Janeiro towards home. On our walk I would spot a “banca de jornal.” Books, magazines, and newspapers of all sorts the “banca” would sell. Mom, I thought, loved to read…I would save my money for three, or perhaps four or five months. Then, on another walk, I would buy her a book, or two, or sometimes four. She would smile, so happy, and inside, I would smile twice as much, for happy I would feel that her heart was -so warm. But now, I’m here, not in the Tropical, but the Arctic, so far from my ten year old days, where I walked barefooted on the sandy beach of the colorful Ipanema beach. Life took me around, a turn or two, and even more than I could ever know…
My mind, here again it is, on the white, so very white snow. A package my mom opened today. In it, “Suitcase to Heaven”- a new book! Filled with emotions mom cried of joy: a tear here, then another one or two. This time, it was not a book from a stranger, or a “banca de jornal,” but a book I, Emilia, wrote. Orchestrated life is, by the God who makes the plans unfold. Oh, how creative and marvelous are His plans! Nothing wasted, nothing coincidental, nothing for not, but all for beauty, all for all! Placing my hands in His Hands, and through life, beauty He created. Would you place your hands in His Hands, and let Him color your life with the beauty of the Northern Lights?
~by Emilia En L’air
Book Suitcase to Heaven may be purchased at Amazon.com