Photo credit: Manifest-Station
It's about a remembrance wreath I made for two special grandmothers, Maymer and Nana; but more so, it's about the gifts available to us in every moment, and the precious memories that sustain us.
Meet my beloved Nana, who carried all of life's goodness and beauty in those gnarled hands. My twinkly-eyed Nana, who danced for the Queen and King of England as a young girl and taught me to curtsy; who sang "His Eye is on the Sparrow" the whole day long, even when the cares of the world weighed heavy on her shoulders; who spritzed herself with rosewater every morning and teased, "Phew, you sure don't smell like roses!" when we rushed into her arms after traveling the revival circuit for weeks on end, in the backseat of a stuffy car.
It was Nana who steadied my candle when it flickered, who kicked over the proverbial bushel basket with sturdy shoes, whenever it grew dim. "This little light of mine," she'd sing in her bright, clear voice, "I'm going to let it shine…" I believed her, and in following her lead, I learned how to keep my inner light burning and to ward off the dark. Yes, the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that Nana had something to do with the way this all played out.
Here's the link, should you want to (re)read "Tidings of Comfort and Joy" at the Manifest-Station website. If you're so inclined, please also leave a comment.
UPDATE: This adventure began when I volunteered to create a remembrance wreath for my friend Amy's Maymer. She's written a beautiful blog about our shared experience here.