“… the land where fruit and spice speak Grandma’s tongue?”
Wow, Marie! This line sunk in and immediately took me back to my childhood Thanksgiving at Grandma’s house.
Breathing in the roasted turkey, wafting from kitchen to dining room, then everywhere. The cranberry sauce — non-canned, mind you — finishing on her stove. The sweet potatoes, blanketed with brown sugar and cinnamon, coming out of her oven.
This all the more saddens me for those whose lives and families have been torn apart through no fault of their own. They now try to put their pieces back in order, in a land unknown to them.
You write and create so well that just one line, of many, makes me stop and think deeply.
pictured words 
“… the land where fruit and spice speak Grandma’s tongue?”
Wow, Marie! This line sunk in and immediately took me back to my childhood Thanksgiving at Grandma’s house.
Breathing in the roasted turkey, wafting from kitchen to dining room, then everywhere. The cranberry sauce — non-canned, mind you — finishing on her stove. The sweet potatoes, blanketed with brown sugar and cinnamon, coming out of her oven.
This all the more saddens me for those whose lives and families have been torn apart through no fault of their own. They now try to put their pieces back in order, in a land unknown to them.
You write and create so well that just one line, of many, makes me stop and think deeply.
You sure do lift my writing confidence level, David! Thank you so much!
Loving your description here. Can almost smell it all, and feel the family warmth! ❤