Sunday, April 20, 2014
Pressed in my journal are three droopy purple violets, a dandelion and a white clover.Entwined in the flowers is a thin dark, slightly curly hair.These were the gifts of today that I picked up after all the family left.These were the delights that my, not quite two year old, granddaughter played with this afternoon.
It is hard to describe the joy on Maddie's face when she felt the wind and watched the pin oak leaves sway.As she picked up and smelled each flower, she said "flower" which sounded like walrus.She looked, sniffed and relished each little wild flower as if it were the Queen's jewels and took me, her Nana, back to the world as first seen by my eyes.
She ran,she tumbled, she laughed.She played with small pebbles, half a plastic egg and her "flowers".She whose successful birth was not a sure thing.She who was born on the Feast of the Assumption and the same date that marked when my mother passed away many years before.I knew Maddie before she was born because I prayed constantly for her safe delivery.And her ancestors prayed with me.I saw this.
Her older cousins delight in her and helped direct her to where the hidden eggs were.That was a joy to witness.She is home by now, but I have my violets,clover, dandelion and a sweet little strand of her hair.