Stories

She wasn’t used to seeing coffee in that cup, given her usual fare as a young girl which consisted of linden tea with lemon and honey or chocolate milk. It made her sad that there was a grown-up beverage in it now, especially since she hadn’t managed to figure out how to be a grown-up yet.
“Milk?” Grandmother offered, as if she’d heard her granddaughter’s thoughts.
Claire poured milk in the already full cup and made the coffee spill into the saucer in the process.
“For luck!” Grandmother dipped her forefinger in the saucer and smeared coffee on the young woman’s forehead, another one of the many customs Claire never questioned. One threw salt over one’s shoulder, ate beans on Wednesdays, wished on the first fruits of the year, wrapped up the outdoor activities at sundown. Life had different ways of marking the passing of time in their household - by the songs of the pigeons in the morning, by the height of the sun at noon, by the sounds of the old bell in the church nearby in the late afternoon. Seasons were announced by scents - the fragrance of the tree blossoms, the overheated aroma of the herbs, the sweet heavy scent of the harvest, the damp smell of the rain. The grandfather clock was the only exception in this world that marked its own time, as if it were brought there from outside just to make a point.
📖  Found yourself in the middle of a story? Visit francisrosenfeld.podbean.com and select “Choose a Novel” to find the chapters belonging to each book. For more stories, poetry, and films, explore STORIES by Francis Rosenfeld.

“Get out of the doorway!”
The words boomed like thunder in Claire’s ears, now almost thirty years later, with the same intensity and pronouncement they carried the first time she’d heard Grandmother utter them, the first time of many. She smiled vaguely to the memory.
It was vast, this mansion of her grandparents where she had grown up, but Claire didn’t know it at the time; she never questioned what she saw because she’d never known another way of life, she’d never ventured past the end of the formal alley flanked by huge oak trees, hundreds of years old, which led straight to its front doors. For her the mansion and its garden were the world.
📖  Found yourself in the middle of a story? Visit francisrosenfeld.podbean.com and select “Choose a Novel” to find the chapters belonging to each book. For more stories, poetry, and films, explore STORIES by Francis Rosenfeld.

Keep your house in order, your garden well tended, your body strong and your mind on praiseworthy thoughts. Never assume anything but trust that you'll have good guidance to find your way through the haze of uncertainty, because, my dear, that love you have in your heart iseverything.
Blessings,
Sister Mary-Francis
📖  Found yourself in the middle of a story? Visit francisrosenfeld.podbean.com and select “Choose a Novel” to find the chapters belonging to each book. For more stories, poetry, and films, explore STORIES by Francis Rosenfeld.

“Most of us stumble upon our purpose later in life, but you have to have one if you want your time here to make sense. Imagine trying to make a cake by adding random ingredients into the mix, just because you have them: there isn't a single chance of it coming out edible. Your life works the same way, you have a cupboard full of ingredients and you have to select the ones that aid you in your purpose in order to make it happen.The real art begins later, when after knowing what the ingredients are, you refine their quantities, the timing, the quality, with higher an higher standards of excellence, until the results become extraordinary.With craftsmanship comes enthusiasm, with enthusiasm mastery, with mastery a legacy to future generations.”
📖  Found yourself in the middle of a story? Visit francisrosenfeld.podbean.com and select “Choose a Novel” to find the chapters belonging to each book. For more stories, poetry, and films, explore STORIES by Francis Rosenfeld.

Those people who entered our happiness and burned it to the ground never really did anything to us: they didn’t rob us of our vast fortune, they didn’t hurt our bodies, they didn’t force my brother to hate me.
All they did was to seep darkness into our lives, and they carry no blame for that in the eyes of the world. The rest of the damage, we volunteered.All you have to do in this life is guard the temple of your mind. While you keep that temple sparkling, with light shining though, there is nothing in this world that is beyond your reach. But when it’s filled with darkness and doubt, nothing has value anymore.
📖  Found yourself in the middle of a story? Visit francisrosenfeld.podbean.com and select “Choose a Novel” to find the chapters belonging to each book. For more stories, poetry, and films, explore STORIES by Francis Rosenfeld.

I don't believe in destiny, Lelia, nor do I believe in exceptional circumstances, obstacles impossible to overcome, or other people's power over my life. That is not to say that life is easy: some fights you don't win, but you have to fight them anyway, because this is the guiding principle for all those who have the audacity to chart their ownfuture.The farther you get in achieving your goals, the harder you'll have to fight for them. The harder you fight, the stronger you get. The stronger you get, the more you feel responsible to protect those who aren't as strong as you are, yet.
📖  Found yourself in the middle of a story? Visit francisrosenfeld.podbean.com and select “Choose a Novel” to find the chapters belonging to each book. For more stories, poetry, and films, explore STORIES by Francis Rosenfeld.