A Valentine Fairytale

Once upon a time there was a king and a queen though not of the same kingdom.  They were of different lands and ruled over very different subjects, possessing unique talents and single hearts.

This valiant king and beautiful queen one day found themselves treading the same route which happened to meander through both their lands.  Upon this chance meeting they detected in one another distinctive, worthy qualities, both intriguing and impressive enough to cause them to want to cross paths again.

Letters were exchanged from his kingdom to hers, delivered in haste.  For even the heralds could see what a marvelous thing it might be to join these two great empires.  And so, through written exchanges, it was agreed that this king would escort the queen in his grand, red carriage to view the celebrated, annual light festival in her land—an experience enjoyed after sunset.

On the night of the event, they rode along for hours, talking, laughing and smiling frequently at one another.  Their hearts beat in rhythm, pattering with pleasure and tenderness, one toward the other.  Jolly tunes played over the air, enhancing their bliss.  The king shared pictures of his royal family and subjects, portraits that pleased the beautiful queen.  And upon this enchanted night, surrounded by twinkling lights, their hearts swelled and the two fell in love.

It was not long before their kingdoms joined; a merger solidified through marriage.  It was a union that made them both forever good and rich.

To say that they lived happily ever after would be in error, because their days consisted of continual and unnumbered trials.  There were some periods that sparkled and warmed their souls like the festive lights under which this king and queen fell spellbound in love.  Other times proved darker, but not without growth and gain.  The promise was that through enduring these trials together—remaining a forever united kingdom in laughter, sorrow, hardship, and love—their uniquely beating hearts would eventually, someday, meld as one. 

The Valentine is one heart shared by two.  

   ~Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes 

      Copyright 2015 Richelle E. Goodrich

Mine's a Wonderful Life

It was early in the morning, three days before Christmas.  I was in bed with my eyes closed, struggling to decide if my latest dream was less or more reality.  I had retired to bed late the previous night, having stayed up to wrap gifts and watch It’s a Wonderful Life all by my lonesome while the rest of the house snored peacefully in the background.  I had wept emotionally over George’s realization that the world was a better place with him alive.  Then I’d turned off the TV and gone to bed. 

Years ago when my children were young, viewing this holiday classic had been an annual tradition.  But ever since my four darlings had entered puberty, they’d unanimously agreed it was more torture than treat to watch a black-and-white rerun of some crazy, old, dead guy……no matter how many tears it cost their mother.  My husband had sided with the majority—a little too eagerly—so I now upheld the holiday ritual alone.   

Still in bed, I opened my eyes and stared up at a ceiling that resembled muddy tapioca.  The grogginess had lifted enough for me to realize I’d been dreaming, but the impact I felt from those realistic visions bothered me.  Sometime in the night I’d assimilated George Baily’s experience into my subconscious, and I’d become a ghost in my own home, invisible to my husband and four children.  I was painfully aware of them but unable to interact with anyone.  Though I stood directly in their path, they were entirely oblivious of me. 

The worst part wasn’t my sudden ghostliness.  Nor was it the fact that I couldn’t communicate with the ones I loved.  What weighed heavy on my heart in the dream—and now while awake—was the fact that my family didn’t appear the least bit troubled by my absence.  No one had stopped for even a second to question where I was, to call out my name or expend the slightest amount of effort searching the house for me.  They simply went on with their daily routines, engrossed in whatever selfish activities each had planned for the day. 

No one missed me.  It was disheartening. 

The fact that my entire family had opted out of movie night the evening prior only made my condition graver.  I may as well have been a real ghost for as little as I was wanted.  In truth, every other soul in the house was capable of taking care of him or herself; my family could go right on functioning without me.

My goal as a parent had always been to teach each child to be self-sufficient and independent; so I had succeeded.  That was good!  But I felt miserable nonetheless. 

Pulling the covers over my head, I curled up into a ball and fell back asleep, depressed and envious of the fact that Bedford Falls had fallen apart without George Baily.

I was jolted awake—startled upright.  A glance at the clock showed I’d overslept by a couple hours.  Five unsmiling faces surrounded my bed, all focused on me.  I realized it was my youngest daughter squawking, “Moth—er!” that had awakened me.  The silence accompanying four tight stares only lasted long enough for me to wipe at the mascara I imagined was smeared beneath my eyes. 

“What are you all…?” I started, only to be drowned out by sibling teens talking at once.

“Mother, I need a ride to Joslin’s house—stupid ‘Big Foot’ won’t take me.”

“Because I can’t, Bratilda.  I told you, I’m scheduled to work…”

“So drop me off first….Mother, tell him!”

“Mom, I’m short on cash, and I need gas money…”

“No, no, no way!  He hasn’t done one chore around here; I’ve been doing everything!”

“Forget them—I really need some money, Mom. We’re Christmas shopping at the mall…”

“Hey, Ma, did you get my red sweater washed?  You said you’d have it ready for my concert tonight…”

“Mom, please tell me you are not going to make me go to his dork concert tonight!  I have that Christmas cookie exchange—you said you’d help me make sugar cookies today…”

Just then, my husband squeezed his head in.  “Hunny?  Have you seen my car keys anywhere?”

If in reality I were to wake up and find myself a ghost, this beautiful family of mine would probably find a way to function.  But my dream had been wrong.  My family needed me, even if I was slightly taken for granted.  The truth felt radiant and clear—Bedford Falls was in chaos.  Good old George Bailey’s wonderful life had nothing on mine. 

This story is from "Making Wishes: Quotes, Thoughts, & a Little Poetry for Every Day of the Year".  

Happiness Found Me Alone

Happiness found me alone one day and took me by the hand.
He showed me how the sun gave out its warmth across the land.
Sadness found me content and smiling upward at the sun.
He talked of droughts and blindness and what burning rays had done.

Happiness found me alone again and pointed to the sky.
He showed me how the storms created rainbows way up high.
Sadness found me intrigued and took me to the rainbow’s end.
He showed me how it disappeared to ne’er return again.

Happiness found me alone and taught me how to sing a song.
He sang a dozen melodies as I chirped right along.
Sadness found me singing out and covered up his ears.
He said the noise was deafening, and wished he couldn’t hear.

Happiness found me alone and gave me seven coins of gold.
He showed me many fancy things that merchants often sold.
Sadness found me admiring the pretty things I’d bought.
He pointed out my empty purse and money I had not.

Happiness found me alone and helped me talk to someone new.
He called the boy my friend and said that I was his friend too.
Sadness found me together with my kind, attentive friend.
He whispered of betrayal and how broken hearts don’t mend.

Happiness found me alone and held me tight in his embrace.
He whispered kindness in my ear and kissed me on the face.
Sadness found me with Happiness but before he spoke at all,
I told him he’d have better luck at talking to the wall.

― Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes

Making Wishes

Introducing the successor to Smile Anyway; another book designed to be used on a day-to-day basis.

Making Wishes

by 

Richelle E. Goodrich

Available in  PAPERBACK  

or e-book form  SMASHWORDS    KINDLE   
NOOK    KOBO    iTUNES

A note: This book was written as a graduation gift.  Half the royalties are gifted to the author's son to help with college and living expenses, so keep in mind that every purchase is a kind donation to help put this boy through college.  

Making Wishes mirrors its predecessor,  Smile Anyway, with new and inspirational quotes, poems, and thoughts written by American author, Richelle E. Goodrich.  This book gives you something to ponder for every day of the year, including a small number of emotional mini-stories that sweetly deliver life lessons. For those who enjoy poetry, each month begins with an original haiku. Other varieties of poems are scattered throughout the reading as well. Making Wishes is both thought-provoking and entertaining; it can be enjoyed one entry per day or, if preferred, taken all-in at one sitting.  Enjoy the following excerpts:

"Dress yourself in the silks of benevolence because kindness makes you beautiful."

“Temptations don't appear nearly as harmful as the roads they lead you down.” 

“Don't seek to be happy; let everyone else chase after that rainbow. Seek to be kind, and you'll find the rainbow follows you.” 

“If I must start somewhere, right here and now is the best place imaginable.”

“There are times you find yourself standing by the wayside, watching as someone struggles to dig a well with a spoon, and you wish with all your heart you had arms and a shovel.” 

“Sorrow on another's face often looks like coldness, bitterness, resentment, unfriendliness, apathy, disdain, or disinterest when it is in truth purely sadness.” 

This book is your 'thought for the day' in hand and includes a saying for leap year.    

And your thought for the day.....

#richelle #richellegoodrich #popularbooks #quotes #makingwishes #poetry 

The Jealous Sun

"The sunlight whispers in my ear, his breath a warm, sultry tease.  I shrink and duck beneath a tree.  My eyes squint to scan the horizon for a glimpse of the wind, but there are no ashen ribbons or golden waves in sight.  He is missing. 

Trickling, tinkling notes reflect loudly off a chandelier of glimmering droplets.  The rain sings to me, and I shield my eyes, admiring the song.  Far off in my western view I expect to see snow, but the sun grows hot with jealousy, knowing this.  He refuses my snowman a place to set. 

My sight drops to search for the man in the moon.  Normally he rises dripping wet from out of the lake, often pale and naked, supple and soft to my caressing gaze.  On rare occasions he dons a pumpkin robe as luminous as fire.  Today he is draped in silks of the saddest blue.  My heart weeps as he steals up and away. 

An army of stars in shining armor come to my aid, and they force the sun into the ground—a temporary grave.  I am fed with a billion bubbles of laughter until I feel I will burst.  But the stars will not stop giving, and I will not stop taking. 

A kiss brands my cheek, and I turn abruptly to find my snowman.  He landed safely in the dark.  We hide from the man in the moon behind a curtain of flurries to dance on polished rainbows and feast on stars until I hear a fire-red growl.  The sun claws its way out of the soil, and everyone scatters."

― Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes

Copyright 2015 Richelle E. Goodrich