Bamboo Sketches
by Charity Lee Jennings
My Hiding Place – Part 2
Though care and trouble may be mine, As down life's path I roam, I'll heed them not while still I have A world of love at home. ~J.J. Reynolds Have you read My Hiding Place - Part 1? Mr. I pulled his chair so it was touching mine and sat. I shifted away. If this...
My Hiding Place – Part 1
Peace — that was the other name for home. ~Kathleen Norris The man behind me leaned his body into mine. I shifted, trying to make the ascent more bearable but bumped the woman in front. Someone else stood at my side. You are in my space. I wanted to shout it out....
Sings Of Spring
Eucalyptus Pods
These are the seedpods Blossom and I collected. Drawing them gave life to the warm memory of my day in the park with my daughter. Did you read the post December's Blossom? It's my favourite Bamboo Sketch.
To Market, To Market
The photo above is meat curing - just down the street from our home. “What should we eat?” I squeezed into a chair at the hole-in-the-wall restaurant and suggestions came from the group of friends. “Garlic cucumbers.” “Egg and tomato.” “Glass noodles.” Our table was...
The Days Of Chinese New Year
Kids, ready to be released for the biggest holiday of the year, chanted a poem that told of the series of days that would carry them to Chinese New Year. The first special day, when they ate Eight Treasure Porridge, had already passed. Now they anticipated the...
Eight Treasures
“Gratitude turns what we have into enough.” Melody Beattie Winter in China is like a popcorn string of holidays. The cool of October brings Canadian Thanksgiving and in November, along with American friends, we give thanks again ushering in a season filled with...
From Failure To Failure
“Success is going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.” Winston Churchill It wasn’t until I’d been in China a few years and collected a suitcase full of adventures that I longed to return to school. (My desire to see the world had trumped sitting...
My Chinese Ink Painting
Here she is – the woman who represents what, for me, somehow slipped away.
An Anchored Gift
It’s a simple looking thing. If you saw it in my home you might not give it a second glance. But I’m reminded it ranks high as kids quiet for the night and from the shelter of my room I hear water boiling and spoons tinkling. Brian is preparing two hot drinks to...
Falling Behind – The Finale
My cup of tea wasn't the only enjoyable aspect of our trip. Now I have this memory of Blossom taking in the view. Did you read the story Falling Behind?
Falling Behind – Part 3
Have you read Falling Behind Parts 1 & 2? I wish the man behind me would wear headphones. He’s playing a game so loud it sounds like I’m in an arcade. The airline must be expecting that too, their announcements invade at a decibel level designed to be heard over a...