Bridge Called Hope Read Online Free PDF Page A

fighting for … and fight she did.
    Her eyes shone with fire as she shared how she silently called her emotional demons to come forth, one by one, and faced her new resolution of strength given by the Lord. Every emotion that fought for destructive control of her life, she called forward and symbolically destroyed them with the very blade that they had been using to destroy her. When she was finished, she said that it seemed like remnants of sorrow, pain, bitterness, loneliness, anger, and grief surrounded her on the snow like broken leaves. Barring that she would choose to pick them up and reconstruct them, each one lay mortally broken around her.
    A late afternoon breeze moved through the pines overhead. Their tranquil music was the only voice that drifted over the white, frozen ranch. Cradled together by the unmistakable lullabyof God whispering down through the trees, two weary hearts rested against each other. It was a new start for both.
    Below the boughs, resting together in a newly forged sense of freedom and peace, side by side in the snow, lay a young dreaming horse and a young dreaming girl.
    Not long after, a few of the rescue team came into the bunkhouse for lunch and warmed themselves by the wood-stove. Ideas of what might be an appropriate name for the new black filly circulated. “Solstice” quickly rose to the top of the list. Her rescue came only two weeks after the winter solstice. It seemed only fitting. She had survived the darkest days of her life. From this day forward, each day would be a little brighter than the last.
    While the crew was finishing up lunch, Karmen arrived. I asked her what she thought of that idea. She remained silent and thoughtful for long moments. Perhaps the image of brighter days was slowly finding its way into her heart as well. Or maybe she, too, was considering a symbolic name change.
    Finally, in cool, quiet, typical Karmen style, with a half smile and a nearly imperceptible nod, she simply stated, “It’s good.”

    Joshua, age 9:
“There are only two kinds of people in this world …
those who pick their nose … and
liars
.”

A s faithful as a sunrise, little Lucas ran straight toward me, stopping only when he crashed into my thigh with a little-boy hug. He looked up at me momentarily, then quickly tucked his chin straight down into his chest. Clearly, this was his wordless invitation, summoning me to continue my “tradition.”
    Not wanting to disappoint, I cupped his blond head between my hands. With great drama and ceremony, I hummed all the way until my lips touched the top of his head in a great big kiss.
Mmmwah!
I let him go as if I had been shocked by the impact. He looked back up at me with immeasurable delight … laughed once, then ran away.
    It is no secret that I love kids. Most of my days gleam with the combined brilliance that these little stars carry within their hearts. Some shine with the blinding glare of a supernova, while others blink with the little twinkle of a matchstick. Despite their diversity, they are all little bright lights that continually flood my life with their unique brand of sunshine.
    Most who know me understand that I love to hug and kiss. Being raised by my grandmother, I learned from the master herself. A sincere hug or a well-placed kiss can communicate a book of words in a single moment. And for many, I oftenwonder if they have been held close by anyone since they saw me last.
    As for kissing, my absolute favorite place is the top of the head. I am tall and kids are short, and it just makes sense that this is the perfect non-threatening place for me to kiss them. Many kids who frequent the ranch are yet unable to verbally ask for a kiss, but they wish for one nonetheless. These are my precious little ones who run up to me and either tuck under my arm and wait, or bow slightly forward, silently offering me their best kissing pose. For me, no matter how it transpires throughout the day, kissing kids is always a bright