5 ingredients – Moong Dal Laddu / Bites — Smitha’s Bake Love

Moong dal energy bites – Easy to make, Sweet to taste and totally kids approved.

5 ingredients – Moong Dal Laddu / Bites — Smitha’s Bake Love

The Boatman

Weekend Stories by Trishikh

Robi’s boat gently swayed in the cool evening breeze of the mighty Ganges at the mouth of the estuary as he prepared his supper in it for the night, a little bit of rice, a bowl of dal and two fried Tilapias. His life as a boatman in this part of the river, especially after dark was pretty lonely and it seemed he preferred it that way, a single man on a sixteen-foot wooden boat in a water world of solitary existence.

With no family or home on land, the boatman fancied spending his entire time on the waves itself. Staying on the river had become such an obsession, that it had been twenty years since he had stepped much beyond the banks and ventured on land to someplace else. Over the years he had lost the desire to do anything else. He had accepted life on the river but…

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(MYANMAR) Anti-Coup Report: Easter Eggs become a symbol of defiance for protestorsWe must win”, “Spring Revolution” and “Get out MAH” were seen on eggs in photographs referring to junta leader Min Aung Hlaing #AceNewsDesk report — Kindness – Wisdom💥

#AceNewsReport – Apr.04: Opponents of military rule in Myanmar inscribed messages of protest on Easter eggs on Sunday (Apr 4), while others were back on the streets, facing off with security forces after a night of candle-lit vigils for hundreds killed since a Feb 1 coup. 10 more words

(MYANMAR) Anti-Coup Report: Easter Eggs become a symbol of defiance for protestorsWe must win”, “Spring Revolution” and “Get out MAH” were seen on eggs in photographs referring to junta leader Min Aung Hlaing #AceNewsDesk report — Kindness – Wisdom💥

To His Son — Shayan’s Sphere

He was so proud of his growing sonClimbing the stairs of life with grit, And by thrashing the trammels of onerous runMoving ahead through cold and heat.“Dearest son, my valorous sword”,Stated the ardent heart of Dad,“Remember for aye my arduous wordsTo live a life with risen head.For life is a strenuous boundless test,The one where […]

To His Son — Shayan’s Sphere

« l’amore per le merci » la foresta sventrata dai cercatori d’oro che priva la vita delle popolazioni indigene del suo nucleo essenziale! — Barbara Crane Navarro

Originally posted on Barbara Crane Navarro: «?Sono i bianchi che guadagnano e accumulano merce! Il loro pensiero è così attaccato ad esso che se lo danneggiano mentre splende ancora, sono così furiosi che piangono! Sono davvero innamorati di questo!Quindi sognano la loro macchina, la loro casa, i loro soldi e tutti gli altri loro beni,…

« l’amore per le merci » la foresta sventrata dai cercatori d’oro che priva la vita delle popolazioni indigene del suo nucleo essenziale! — Barbara Crane Navarro

What is the God’s Grace!

Bio-Blogger

At this moment as the night brought me some peace, I rewinded my day to conclude and enter in to the new morning. There were some mixture of thoughts over my head reminded me to thank God for his Grace.

Night is the precious time that God has created to rest our minds and listen to our heart’s wishperings. It’s the best time to filter our thoughts, target our troubles and thank god for all that is good in life. We can take a time to know that all the worst and best days are respectively not bad and good but God’s grace works any way. Both situations will remind us to confess our sins, find a quiet place to reach him or pray him for all his grace by praying and thanking for keeping us in his arms always.

I know the difficult times are the worst disappointments but…

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Sabato Santo

Vincenza63's Blog

Amici miei,

buon sabato Santo a tutti, nell’attesa della Risurrezione del nostro Signore GesùCristo!

Amen! ❤

Un abbraccio di vero cuore, sempre Vicky!

Il sogno di Maria – Fabrizio De Andrè

Nel Grembo umido, scuro del tempio, l’ombra era fredda, gonfia d’incenso; l’angelo scese, come ogni sera, ad insegnarmi una nuova preghiera: poi, d’improvviso, mi sciolse le mani e le mie braccia divennero ali, quando mi chiese – Conosci l’estate io, per un giorno, per un momento, corsi a vedere il colore del vento. Volammo davvero sopra le case, oltre i cancelli, gli orti, le strade, poi scivolammo tra valli fiorite dove all’ulivo si abbraccia la vite. Scendemmo là, dove il giorno si perde a cercarsi da solo nascosto tra il verde, e lui parlò come quando si prega, ed alla fine d’ogni preghiera contava una vertebra della mia schiena. Le ombre lunghe dei sacerdoti costrinsero il sogno…

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