I think I cut the last roses of summer this week. My 125 year old pecan tree is dropping its fruit like crazy. Of course, the nuts are a little green yet, but that hasn't stopped the squirrels from harvesting like mad.

Fall is traditionally a time of growth and harvest. Students are starting school again and working on expanding their minds. New 2003 automobiles are being introduced. New shows are premiering on television. Even the bookstore looks new with fall colors everywhere. It is a new beginning, and I pray it is a new beginning for us.

I pray that God blesses us with new ideas this fall, leading us to new growth in spirit, mind, body and all our affairs. I pray that we feel a oneness with God in our soul and in every thought of our mind. I pray that God's good takes over and brings Divine order in every aspect of our lives. I pray that we have the knowledge that God is with us, every moment of the day and night. I pray that we have the desire to accept more in every part of our lives. I pray that God surrounds us with Divine good. This is a time of harvest and I pray that our harvest has come. I pray that we harvest unexpected good. I pray that we harvest Divine ideas. I pray that we harvest financial prosperity. I pray that God will show us the way, so that it will be impossible for us to miss the opportunities available to us.

Growing up isn't easy. Fact is, it's different now, maybe even harder that it used to be. There are so many choices for young people about how to lead their lives. DAILY WORD, a trusted resource on spiritual matters for thousands of people across the country, offers guidance and inspiration on their journey as they learn what is sacred in them. Along the way, this book will help them discover their own inner strength, grace, and wisdom, so the choices about how to live their lives will seam a little less daunting. It will become indispensable as they seek their own life's path.

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The losses in our lives are the hardest things we have to face. A loved one dies...A relationship ends...We lose a job, a friend, a treasured dream...A child is ill...We lose our physical health, or ability...And, our world turns upside down.

We lose our bearings. We lose our joy. We lose our security. We no longer know who we are. We no longer know what our life is about. We no longer trust.

We long for something to take away the pain...to change the circumstance...to bring back the one we love...to return us, and our lives, to wholeness.

If we can look at the losses in our lives a little differently, if we can change our perspective just slightly, we may see that within this experience lie the seeds of a new beginning...of a new life...of a deeper experience of love and fulfillment than we ever imagined possible.

This book is about changing perception. It is about healing the losses we have already experienced, and preparing for the inevitable losses to come. It is about learning to see the pain of loss as a gift. A gift we didn't ask for, but here it is.

Loss is an inevitable part of being human. And our choice is either to remain in pain and bitterness, or to learn how to use this experience to grow into a richer, more fulfilling life.

AWAKENING FROM GRIEF places in your hands the roadmap back to joy. It is a treasure chest filled with heart-warming stories of growth...insightful, compassionate wisdom, and useful, inspirational help. It will fill your heart and refresh your soul.

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During the waning years of the depression in a small southeastern Idaho community, I used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for farm-fresh produce as the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce and bartering was used, extensively.

One particular day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.

Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me.

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said: "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."

I left the stand, smiling to myself, impressed with this man.

A short time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys and their bartering. Several years went by each more rapid than the previous one.

Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died.

They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon our arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing smiling and composed, by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary, awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. Eyes glistening she took my hand and led me to the casket.

Those three young men, who just left, were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size...they came to pay their debt. "We've never had a great deal o f the wealth of this world," she confided, "but, right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho."

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three, exquisitely shined, red marbles.

Moral: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.

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