Clear out the dusty toys from the attic.
Put on a mask and take out the trash that’s stinking up the basement.
But open the windows.
Don’t let the wind slam the doors.
Let fresh air into the house.
Let the warm, then the cool
summer breeze change the mood of every room.
Take a breath of it. Yeah!
Breathe in, breathe out.
Let out a joyful shout!
Grab a broom and sweep the house out.
Let the warm summer breeze draw you outside.
Under the sky. Under the sun. In the grass and among the trees.
Let the sun warm you up and the breeze cool you down.
Cry a little, but smile, too.
Just breathe in, breathe out.
Go back in the house and put up the broom.
Close the doors, but leave the windows open for now.
Laugh a little now.
It was a good prayer.
“How much do I owe for this sunshine and fresh air?”
by Jason Whaley
- - - -
Poem inspired . . .
Somewhat by Frank Laubach:
January 3, 1930
To be able to look backward and say, “This, this has been the finest year of any life”—that is glorious! But anticipation! To be able to look ahead and say, “The present year can and will be better!”—that is more glorious! I have done nothing but open windows—God has done the rest. There has been a succession of marvelous experiences of the friendship of God. I resolved that I would succeed better this year with my experiment of filling every minute full of the thought of God than I succeeded last year. And I added another resolve—to be as wide open toward people and their need as I am toward God. Windows open outward as well as upward. Windows open especially downward where people need the most!