by Francoise Ducroz
As the evening light fades on the Highlands,
they gather around the table and say Grace.
A single candle on the table
heads bowed,
hands folded at the heart,
the family stands together
for their meal of turnip soup and barley bread.
The elder begins the prayer of thanks
for sturdy walls against the northern winds,
for sheep safely gathered,
for warm food on the table
and for the pit fire heating the cottage’s single room.
And tonight’s prayer has a humble sound
of hope for another season.
Today, the landlord came to collect his due.
He rode with his bailiff and two sturdy highland ponies,
as always in late summer.
He had been demanding and arrogant,
noticing another mouth to feed when the child cried for his mother's milk,
but he left satisfied with four sacks of grain loaded on the mounts
heading for the neighboring croft over the hill.
The harvest had been generous.
With a growing season longer than usual,
gentle winds, soft rains
and a warm sun.
So tonight, they are serene and grateful.
Together.
Thankful for their robust, able bodies,
for the fortitude nestled in their strong hearts,
for the fruit of their labor
and the Grace of their love.
Read on Francoise's travel blog on the journey of life
https://words2evolve.com/2025/10/of-grace-and-fortitude/