Author: Colleen Reece Author

Life in Old California

Gabriela Joyous O’Donnell is horrified at the prospect of marriage with a man she despises. She runs away from her scheming cousin’s home and assumes a false name.

Gabbie dares trust no one, not even San Francisco’s rising star attorney, Gordon Rhys, who is fast capturing her heart. The courageous young woman lives in fear; compelled to flee time after time from those determined to force her into a life of misery.

God opens ways of escape. Then Gabbie is threatened by a new, life-threatening danger from which there may be no escape: the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.

Colleen L. Reece has more than 180 “Books You Can Trust to Inspire and Entertain,” with over six million copies sold.

Prequel: Cherished Romance #15.

C:  Christ-child’s birthday.

H:  Herald angels in the night.

R:  Road to Bethlehem.

I:  Innkeeper turns family away.

S:  Stars shine bright.

T:  Three Wise men from afar.

M: Manger filled with hay.

A:  Animals share their home.

S:  Shepherds rise and come.

  c 2003 by Colleen L. Reece

I wish I could write personal greetings to each of you. Since this is not doable, please be assured: my blog posts are just as heart-felt, as if I had sat down and visited with you all.

A few days ago, dear friends came and helped me decorate for Christmas. A far cry from a year ago when I spent Christmas in the hospital, New Year’s and Valentine’s Day in rehabilitation, then back in the hospital for another week.

It has been a long recuperation, but God continues to walk with me and goes before me. Family and friends plus help from several programs enable me to stay in my home.

May you be blessed during this “holy-“day season of remembering Whose birthday we celebrate.

Love, prayers, and gratitude,

Colleen

Getting ready for Christmas can leave us frazzled. Try my recipe for a time-out during the holidays. 

A quiet room, warm cocoa, a good book

Thanksgiving 2023: A time to Rejoice

From early childhood I knew how much God loved me, knowing that He would never leave or forsake me. For 88 years, He has met my every need, often in miraculous ways.

The last year is no exception I awoke on Veterans’ Day 2022, so weak I could barely walk to the bathroom. So began long months in hospitals and a rehabilitation center.

Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Day, and Valentine’s Day passed before I came home in late February, needing a lot of help. I couldn’t vacuum or mop, etc. because of using a walker. 

Family and friends stepped in. My niece contacted several social services. They provided everything from Meals on Wheels to a caption phone, a walk-in-shower to visiting therapists. Then a home helper for a few hours a week to handle major chores. What I needed to be able to stay in my home. 

It is a long way back, but God continues to restore my energy. I still must set priorities and admit limitations. I especially give thanks for “firsts;” abilities we often take for granted.

Some of my most significant “firsts.”

*Taking the walker down the kitchen steps into the garage (supervised). *Walking alone down the driveway to the mailbox. *Standing at the sink and doing my dishes. *Writing checks for bills (friends had been doing this). *Looking in the mirror and seeing faint color in my pale cheeks and a bit of sparkle in my eyes. *First walk-in-shower unsupervised bath. *Washing and drying clothes. *Responding to a gazillion stacked-up emails via a blog post. *Getting out of the house for a ride around the plateau with a caring friend. *Making a home-made meal from scratch. *Walking up the street with my home helper. (I made it all of two blocks that first time!) 

I also learned to appreciate those who so faithfully serve others. Hospital and the Rehab Center personnel. The Safeway and Meals on Wheels delivery people. The many neighbors who kept an eye on my home while I was gone (I came home from the hospital to a spotless house) and those who check to make sure I am okay.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving and do take time to give thanks for blessings, great and small.

* * *

A lifetime in God’s care.

Breaking News!

After a long absence due to illness and recuperation, popular author Colleen L. Reece is back. She uses her fascination with the Old West to produce two more exciting, inspirational, historically accurate novels.

Joy’s Long Journey, Cherished Romance #15

Prospector Angus MacFarlane finds an abandoned child in the desert. A lace-trimmed dress is the only clue to her identity. Angus adopts “Joyous,” who grows up during the California Gold Rush.

Britton O’Donnell and his family escape the Irish potato famine and come to America. Brit joins the Silver Rush, along with fifteen-year-old Carlos Montoya, son of a Monterey patriarch.

Brought together by the hand of God, Joyous and Angus, Brit and Carlos, face a long, arduous journey in order to solve a mystery that for years has wreaked havoc on a proud, grieving family.

 

Sequel coming: Gabriela’s Flight to Freedom, Cherished Romance #16.

Gabriela O’Donnell is horrified at the prospect of marriage with a man she despises. Clutching a treasured heirloom tapestry, she runs away from her scheming aunt’s home and assumes a false name. Gabbie dares trust no one, not even San Francisco’s rising star attorney, Gordon Rhys, who is fast capturing her heart.

The courageous young woman lives in constant fear; compelled to flee time after time from those determined to force her into a life of misery.

God opens ways of escape. Then Gabbie is threatened by a new life-threatening danger: the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.

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One of the things I learned from spending three month in hospitals and rehabilitation was a new appreciation for little things. My hard-won “firsts” were and continue to be sources of gratitude. These small triumphs may appear trivial to those who haven’t experienced discouragement over the inability to perform tasks once taken for granted.

Among them are:

• the ability to do my physical and occupational therapy exercises without having to stop and rest every few minutes.
• being confident to take my walker from the kitchen down two shallow steps to the garage.
• standing at my sink to do dishes without fear of losing my balance and falling.
• my first trip to the end of the driveway to get the mail.
• I am finally able to begin writing again, after months of questioning whether it would ever happen. I am now working on another book, pacing myself according to each day’s energy level.

There are still many tasks I can’t do while using a walker, such as changing my bed, vacuuming, mopping, etc. Now, a wonderful home helper comes 4 hours a week to handle the hard stuff.

The journey of a thousand miles really does begin with one step. My latest “milestone” was walking with my helper (and the walker) a few blocks to the top of the hill above me in the cul-de-sac. Chatting with a neighbor and feeling the fresh wind in my face brought another, “Thank You, Lord, for literally restoring my health one step a time.”

We plan to increase the distance some each time we walk. I don’t know how many steps it will take to return to where I was last November. But like the determined small dog in one of my favorite rhymes says that “One foot after another the little dog reached Dover.”

He evidently didn’t let obstacles stand in the way of reaching his goal. He just kept putting one foot down and then the next. Each brought him closer to his destination.

Following this intrepid traveler’s example will not take me to Dover. Yet I rejoice. With the continuing help of our Heavenly Father, I will someday reach my goal.  Thank you all for your love and prayers as I travel a journey I never expected to take, but one that has deepened my gratitude for the “littles” that brighten our lives. 

Blessings,

Colleen

 

 

When the doorbell of my Auburn, Washington home rang on the evening of July 3rd, I discovered a lovely young woman holding a gorgeous bouquet of daisies.

I gasped. “Is it really you?”  

She nodded. After a long separation, Suzi (Sajuthi Paul) from Oman and I were together at last.

* * *

Friends are where you find them. Several years ago, I was pruning rhododendrons on a sunny day. A beautiful, dark-haired young woman hesitated at the end of my driveway. I looked up, smiled, greeted her and began a lasting friendship. 

Suzi lived just around the corner with several other students and attended the college just up the street. I knew her landlord. Far from Oman, she found my modest home a refuge, and called me Granny Pearl (a term of respect).

We spent hours getting acquainted and bonding. She insisted on doing my dishes if any were in the sink when she came! Sometimes her visits over-lapped those with Anita Donihue, who soon became Granny Anita.

In 2020, Suzi prepared to go home and spend the summer with her family. It didn’t happen. COVID struck. Oman airports were closed. Two more years passed before Suzi could go to her country (in Jan. 2022).

I cried when she left. Ever since then, we have faced tough times, including sickness, but kept in touch by email. Our friendship endured, but I wondered if I would ever see her again.

* * * 

Now Suzi stood at my door, wearing the same unforgettable smile that originally captured my admiration. She has graduated from college. Her brief visit would end the next day. We made the most of our two hours together.

I don’t know when or if we will meet again in person, but I have been richly blessed since that sunny day at the end of my driveway when God sent a new friend into my life.

Suzi decked me out in her cap and honor cord; we shared cherished memories and created new ones. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Growing up in my hometown of Darrington Washington in the 1940s required penny-pinching. Little money was left over for non-essentials. Yet early every 4th of July morning, our family climbed in our old car and began a fun day–fortified with popcorn shaken over our wood stove in a wire popper, and red and blue huckleberries from our yard.

A few hard-earned coins from washing windows and cupboards jingled in my brothers’ and my pockets.  Our hearts pounded in anticipation while we drove 30 miles to Arlington to see the annual parade, then another 20 miles to Everett for their much larger parade.

We stared in awe at the beautiful floats. Men stood with bared heads as we put hands over our hearts while singing, “The Star-Spangled Banner.” We cheered when rows of uniformed defenders of our country marched by.

Sometimes Darrington didn’t have a movie theater and we seldom could afford to eat out, but Everett offered many restaurants and the Everett, Roxy, Balboa and Granada theaters.

Sometimes there was a carnival where we parted with our precious coins for rides or chances to win prizes. One year we went on to Seattle’s Playland Amusement Park. The day ended with fireworks that left us gaping.

Dad, Mom, and my two brothers are gone now. I thank God for the gift of wonderful memories. Every year just before Independence Day, I think back to families, flags, and the 4th of July.

I close my eyes and smell popcorn, cotton candy, and hot dogs sizzling on a carnival grill. I hear the whirr of a Ferris wheel, the   calliope-like music of a merry-go-round. I remember scenes from movies we saw so long ago, and how we enjoyed reliving them long after our trips ended. I smile at how thrilled I was to actually eat in a restaurant.

Then I whisper a prayer for all those who valiantly served their country, many of whom gave their lives to ensure freedom. Tears fall as I gratefully quote Lee Greenwood’s inspirational signature song, “Proud to be an American” song.

“And I’m proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free. And I won’t forget the men who died, who gave that right to me. And I’d gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today.  ‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land. God bless the U.S.A.”

I hope you will take time on this upcoming Independence Day to give thanks for families, flags, and the 4th of July.

Blessings,
Colleen

Darrington WA cemetery, established 1917

My hometown and Mayberry, North Carolina, home of Sheriff Andy Taylor (Andy Griffith), had a lot in common. He, his son Opie, Aunt Bee, and even Barney Fife would have fit right in with the many Tarheels (North Carolinians).

Mom and I moved from Darrington in 1970, but my memories live on.

Life was not perfect. Like with other small towns, there was gossip, sickness, tragedy, friendships formed and broken. Yet when trouble came, our town looked after its own. Caring neighbors often gave what they couldn’t afford to spare.

Special events helped make a close-knit community. Loyal basketball teams swarmed the gym for hometown games and drove hundreds of miles to support the high school team. Churches threw wide their doors on Sundays and for mid-week services. High attendance at the many Christmas programs, and the annual Easter sunrise service, reflected the town’s support for both school and church.

 A well-loved tradition

We observed Memorial Day (then Decoration Day) with a general clean-up. Residents arrived at the cemetery on Saturday or Sunday with garden tools, a wealth of flowers, and small flags to honor those who gave their lives for our country.

People visited and shared memories. Some years representatives from the VFW put on a short program. Hats off, flags flying, hands over hearts, “The Star-Spangled Banner” had never been more meaningful.

I won’t be in Darrington tomorrow, but my thoughts and prayers will be on those long-ago celebrations. I will again honor those no longer with us. May God bless you with peace as you cherish precious memories of those who have gone on before but who left indelible marks on your hearts and lives. 

Colleen

Many wonderful poems have been written about mothers. One of my favorites brings back memories of a special event during World War 2. I was excused from grade school, located across the street from the Darrington, Washington church where the Ladies Aid met, long enough to recite a poem at their Mother’s Day meeting.

Somebody’s Mother, Mary Dow Brine, 1816-1913

The woman was old and ragged and gray and bent with the chill of the winter’s day. The street was wet with a recent snow and the woman’s feet were aged and slow.

She stood at the crossing and waited long,
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng, of human beings who passed her by, nor heeded the glance of her anxious eyes.

Down the street, with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of “school let out,” came the boys like a flock of sheep, hailing the snow piled white and deep.

Past the woman so old and gray, hastened the children on their way nor offered a helping hand to her —so meek, so timid, afraid to stir lest the carriage wheels or the horses’ feet, should crowd her down in the slippery street.

At last came out of the merry troop, the happiest  boy of all the group; He paused beside her, and whispered low, “I’ll help you across, if you wish to go.”

Her aged hand on his strong young arm she placed, and so without hurt or harm, he guided the trembling feet along, proud that his own were young and strong; Then back again to his friends he went, his young heart happy and well content.

I thank God for my mother, Pearl Towne Reece, for a million or more prayers. I was privileged to have her in my life for almost 96 wonderful years before she was called to heaven. Her example lives on in all who knew her. 

Colleen

A long time coming. 

Last fall I received the proofed copy of Love with Honor, Cherished Romance #14, from a good friend who edits for me. Chills and fever on Veterans Day brought work to a screeching halt. After three months in hospitals and rehabilitation, I came home. God continues to restore me a day at a time. It felt good to finally have enough energy to complete the manuscript.

How binding is a war-time promise?

Honor Brooks becomes a nanny after World War I claims her beloved soldier brother. Concerned for Honor, her employer insists that she accompany him, his wife, and daughter Christy on a trip to the Grand Canyon.

Honor is reunited with the soldier who once captured her heart, secured her promise to wait for him, then vanished. She falls in love with him all over again.

Phillip Travis is co-owner of Casa del Sol, north of Flagstaff. Honor’s dream of living on a cattle ranch is coming true. But why is Phillip acting so strangely when she arrives?

Colleen L. Reece, 180 “Books You Can Trust to Inspire and Entertain,” 6 million+ copies sold, uses her love for northern Arizona as a setting for this touching story.