Brenda Cannon Henley's archive

Funny, how one simple little ordinary thing can take you back in time so vividly. I had a time-travel experience today thanks to the gifts from a neighbor here on the beach.Ted came in the door last night with a second bag of homegrown tomatoes, some peppers and a beautiful onion pulled straight out of the garden of a neighbor across the street from us. This kind man had shared some of his fresh, homegrown vegetables last week and they were wonderful.

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Saying it would never happen to me, I have found lately that it has. I am turning into my mother, at least when it comes to quotes, quips and proverbs. For years, I remember both my natural mother and my grandmother in whose home I lived the early years of my life having a saying that just popped out of their mouths when it seemed to be needed — and sometimes when I did not think it was. I vowed I would never burden my own children, their contemporaries, cousins, aunts, uncles and friends with all those old wives tales and quotes. I just can’t seem to help it.

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While watching a television newscast with my husband in our home one night recently, I heard the phrase “the cost of freedom” used four times in the one piece. That repetition started a train of thought in my mind that I have been dealing with off and on since hearing the writer of the script’s interruption. What do we mean when we say “the cost of freedom?”

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