She was a pure, sweet little girl

Blond hair in curls 

A twirl in her aspect

and in her step

We somersaulted thru a

childhood together

Hop-scotching, hide-and-seeking

Fire-fly and rainbow chasing

She, with a name to match her

pretty dresses and shiny Mary Jane shoes…

Faith Joyce who never seemed to

notice and certainly never judged my

wrinkled hand-me-down frocks.

Wrinkled, ill-fitted out-fitted me - with one exception - 

It was an unforgettable, long ago morning. I’d arrived for my first day of 3rd grade, happily all decked out and, for once in my life, feeling pretty in brand new (to me)  thrift-store finery - Finery that tragically was soon revealed to have been previously owned by the one and only rich, mean, bully, and, my personal tormentor, Trudy Evers.  Humiliation suffered.

Scuff-worn shoes.  

Unnecessary problems for me had there been more thoughtful parental care.

But, never mind. Faith Joyce was there.

Faith Joyce - a friend whose song of love is still singing in my soul. I wonder if she knows. 

It’s been decades and, yet, that fairylike flower, that wisp of love-at-the-ready for when needed in the  open field of my life continues to bloom.

She was a child - totally unaware how often her smile came to my rescue amid life’s assaults.  

Certainly unaware of how her sacred essence continues to this day to carry me through many a stormy moment.

In truth, I wonder…was she real, or simply an angel in my heart sent by heaven to be my friend.

  Either way…

  My Choice:

To this day 

I swing and sway

making it through 

holding on tight

 to the light 

       of 

 Faith Joyce.

By Fran Pearce

From: United States

Instagram: franpearce3@

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com//holisticharmoniesca