It seems that one person’s joy is another’s allergy. In fact, I once marveled out loud at what I called the heavenly aroma of Russian Olive trees, or was it Honeysuckle, while walking the woods nearby.

I thought it was a benign statement unil a friend reminded me that it couldn’t possibly be a heavenly aroma to those massively allergic to it. Point taken. I won’t debate the theology of what might consitute a heavenly aroma and/or whether allergies could exist in the spiritual place called heaven. To me, that aroma was something indescribably beauiful.

Bev Barton LeVan of Everett is a personal essay writer and blogger for her website


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