Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Dear God,

The radishes and pretzels had been picked up from the yard. All the chairs and tables had been returned to their place. The garden was clean of weeds and debris. But what caught my eye was the "shiny" rocks gathered neatly together at the feet of St. Francis.

Years ago I started buying polished rocks whenever I traveled out of town. Beautifully polished rocks of every kind. Carried in a very small black bag, I would bring them home, then carefully place them around my garden pond. When grandchildren came to visit, they would seek to find the "shiny" rocks. Turquoise, tiger eye, quartz, they would search, then squeal with delight when they came running inside to me with a hand full.

I always told grandchildren they could toss "baby" rocks into the pond but the shiny rocks were treasures. No one could take any home so they would remain here to be discovered again.

On Sunday my older granddaughter collected many rocks. When the kids arrived she handed them a rock to carry throughout the day. She brought me one. "Hold onto it, Grandma." She told me. During my party I found rocks strewn throughout the house, in the living room, the bathroom, the bedroom, on the patio and in the yard. When I started to pick one up, my granddaughter would stop me, telling me this was a special party and the rocks had to stay in place.

After everyone left, Harold retrieved the rocks left in the yard and placed them at St. Francis' feet. When I walked outside I found them.

I think the shiny rocks were a comfort to my grandchild. She was having a hard time. And because she enjoys finding the small treasures, I think she went on a treasure hunt, found them, then put them in special places all around her. Even in my pocket.

That little collection set at St. Francis' feet looked like a love offering. Like a way to say thank you. Perhaps it was perfectly placed. Could St. Francis know of my granddaughter's sadness and worry? Did his presence bring comfort and compassion to my precious little girl? Can a saint do all this? They're still there, can't bring myself to touch them, too holy.

Eternal God,
a child's grief
can be turned upside down
by a simple treasure found.
Holding on to a
shiny rock
is like holding
a bit of heaven,
at least it is
to my grandchildren.
Thank you
for the simple gift.
Enjoy them
at the feet
of your saint.

Love, Andrea