What a difference a friendly smile can make to brighten a day.  For the past few months, each morning on my way to catch the city bus to work, the school bus driver and I exchange a wave and a smile as we pass each other on our early morning treck.  I have come to eagerly await the approach of the school bus and the driver’s warm, friendly smile and enthusiastic wave.

On Friday I was unexpectedly and pleasantly surprised when the driver stopped, opened the door, and introduced herself to me.  She said I make her day when she and I pass and greet each other in the morning!  We shook hands and exchanged names, and I conveyed my pleasure at seeing her friendly smile at the start of my work days too.

Before I knew her name, I felt like Michelle and I were long lost friends when we passed.  Now that we have met and I know she feels the same way I do, I will enjoy her friendly morning greeting even more.  Thanks, Michelle, for being you!

It’s almost mid-May and I am overjoyed to witness a transformation that has been over two years in the making. For the last two years, each spring and into the summer, I have patiently checked the progress of the promising buds on my Rhododendron, only to be disappointed in the fall when the same buds remain intact and unyielding. This day is different — I walk down the driveway, approach the steps, and stare in awe at the delicate, majestic flower that has finally made its appearance.

The exquisite, overwhelmingly beautiful flower brings Mom to mind – it is strikingly similar to the tissue flowers she took such care to pack for her trip home, after purchasing them from a group of children in the streets of Mexico.

I am delighted at the appearance of this beautiful, long-awaited flower, and grateful that its appearance brings Mom warmly to mind. Today is Mother’s day, and I miss her very much.

As I saunter up the steps, I catch a glimpse of something foreign. Closer inspection reveals the first ladybug of spring, sitting very still, hitching a ride on the back of my hand.

Mindful of her tiny, hair-like legs, I try to slide an ivy leaf under the small, compact body. She skitters in the opposite direction. Is it the warmth or texture of my skin that attracts my little friend, or does she find the leaf distasteful? I’m fascinated by the asymmetrical spots on the perfectly oval body, and the fact that this tiny creature can transform in a flash to take flight.

I turn my hand and try again, and the minuscule legs, barely visible under the hard, shiny shell, finally accept the leaf. She scampers first to the top and then to the underside of her new home, and remains safely out of sight.

Her tiny, soft paws reach up to lightly tap my thigh; pretty blue eyes plead, and I can’t resist lifting her up for a cuddle. Before she curls up to settle sleepily on my lap, her tiny, pokey paws kneed her new resting place.

As I slowly stroke her soft, warm fur, my fingers relish the silky feeling of her shiny black head, her trusting, dusty-colored body and finally the long, black tail. Her motor kicks into high gear, purring to express pleasure as she tickles my hand with a sandpaper tongue. I wonder who is getting the most pleasure out of this, or who will fall asleep first!

Hot on my tongue! I have to taste to see if it needs more of this or that, but it’s oh-so-hot! Since the rice is left-over from dinner and was cooked in chicken stock, I will have to doctor this rice pudding recipe just a smidge…but hey, the recipe does call for a pinch of salt.

Mmmm, a bit of butterscotch pudding powder tones down the salty flavour just right. After a few minutes of cooking and thickening, let’s try again. Sweet and creamy, the rich butterscotch flavour explodes in my mouth as I savor the rice and rub my burnt tongue against the roof of my mouth. The raisins add a chewy texture, just right!

One person who has had an important impact in my life, but who I’ve never taken the time to acknowledge properly, is my sister.

When I think of her, I think of a beautiful, radiant smile, a welcoming hug, sincerity and love.

The occasion of my 50th birthday is a perfect example of Arlene’s caring nature and thoughtfulness. Her trip of 400 miles to come to our home and wish me a happy birthday was the best gift I could have received. But wait….that’s not all. Added to the enjoyment of her company was a gift she made that I will always treasure. I remember opening this gift and being filled with love and appreciation for this wonderful person I am fortunate enough to call my sister. Looking at the memory album she had created with her graceful, talented hands, it was evident that many, many hours had been spent sorting through and selecting the perfect pictures to create a chronicle of my half a century of being her little sister. The photos were colorfully framed and included captions to add even more sentimentality.

Flipping through the pages of my life brought back a flood of memories and emotions, none as great as the love I felt at that time, and still do, for my big sister. When I grow up, I want to be just like her!