Roger Jayne
Once Roula and I were having a picnic at Silverwood Lake, a mountain park in southern California. There was a round cement pad that normally has a picnic table – this one was missing the table. It was surrounded by greasewood bushes that were about seven feet tall creating a natural enclosure. I was busy barbecuing and wondered where she had gone. I thought I heard singing and went over to this place and peeked through the bushes and Roula was dancing around in a circle singing “happy, happy, happy, don’t be a grump”; a song she had just made up. It was as if she had a host of angels dancing with her. Her joy was contagious.
-Roger-
