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The scent of rain

Today is Sunday a beautiful day. It is raining, sleeting, cold. The wind is whipping through the trees. A winter chill is in the air. I of course being curious when I got out of bed at 6am just had to open the door. Quickly I shut it. Chilled to the bone I retreated back into the comfort and warmth of my home. The warmth that I can depend on. The comfort of knowing that I have a husband still in bed lost in slumber. With my two dogs also asleep, I find time for myself. Time to think and enjoy the quiet of an early Sunday morning. My thoughts go back again to the fact that really, I do love the rain. I lived in Wyoming for a while and one of the things I missed the most about living in the deep south was the scent of rain. Isn't it funny how you can remember a scent? The smell of fresh baked apple pie or grandma's cookies, but neither of these can compare with the smell of rain or fresh cut grass. My thoughts return now to a day not so long ago. I was at work and went again to start and IV on the medical floor. It was a elderly man no one had been successful at getting an IV on. As I entered the room I was unprepared for there in front of me was a gentleman with no nose. Only two holes remained where his nose had been. I wanted to cry. Just so you know I don't just go around crying all the time but I am touched by many things that I encounter. Many different people from many different walks of life do touch my life. On my way home that day I said a prayer for something that each day I take for granted. I prayed and thanked God for my nose. I want to live each day to the fullest. I want to pray daily and tell God how thankful I am for all he has given me. For the home I abide in, the clothes I wear, the food I eat and especially for letting me enjoy the scent of rain.

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