Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • When we do not have any more hopes, when we do not have any dreams left.
    When our memories are not with us, but stayed behind like death roses in the garden of the past.
    When life seems to end and we forgot how it began and the faces we encountered through the years are just fading drawings disappearing with time.
    When love is not with us and our memory fails to remember our first kiss, our first child.
    Then we pray not with our mind but with our hearts to be able, once more to hold in our souls what is gone. To feel love and to remember just for a little while the embraces and the tears and the laughter. The sorrows ,the sunshine and the storms. We pray that the angels bring a box with all those memories that our mind had lost.

    To my mother who died from Alzheimer ten years ago.

    Photo by Cecilia
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.