The Sunday Post (Newcastle)

Pretty pink graffiti that was sealed with a kiss

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DAVID was telling George about the graffiti that had been scribbled on his fence.

“I would be furious,” George said, “so why are you smiling?”

So David showed him the offending words. The height of the writing and the fact it was in pretty pink felt-tip suggested it had been written by

IT was an overheard conversati­on that broke – and then lifted – my heart.

A boy, aged about four, said to the man next to him: “I know you won’t talk to mummy, dad. But will you still talk to me?”

I swallowed hard, and should have walked on, but I lingered. The man reassured his son he would always talk to him then, perhaps rememberin­g other promises he had made, added: “And I’ll talk to mummy as well.”

I hope and pray things will work out for them. Sometimes, we can really benefit from seeing what we do through a child’s eyes.

They are often the most honest and insightful of all. a little girl sitting down. There was another girl’s name on the first slat. The next three slats had a misspelled message written on them. The words were “I”, “Hat” and “You”.

“Looks like they’ve had a fall-out,” David laughed. “A few licks of paint will take care of it, but I’m guessing they’ll have made up before the paint dries.” George was confused – until David showed him the last slat. The vandal had ended her angry message “xxx”.

As graffiti goes, George and David agree, that has to be the cutest ever!

THE ladies were talking about the latest rehearsal of their community choir, and one singer in particular. I didn’t catch her name.

At first I thought that was just as well, because her critics firmly announced that she wasn’t the best singer. Then they added: “But her joy encourages the others to sing better and the soft melodies she adds actually make the others sound better!”

It’s a truth that shows itself in many ways. The ones who get all the credit, the ones who get the solos and the applause, are not always the ones who add the extra sweetness to the mix.

To that unknown singer, and all those who quietly make life’s “choir” a more beautiful thing... bravo! And encore!

Dark and dreary winter days, With blustery winds and snow, No blue skies, no blackbird’s song,

Spirits truly on a low; But already, spring is close, And sighting snowdrops in bloom,

Never fails to raise a smile, And somehow lifts the gloom.

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