Saturday, May 17, 2008

Dearest God,

The flowers were all abloom as I entered the walkway of her condiminum. Mary had awakened, gotten up, and was helped by her daughter to get dressed in her new pajamas. She wanted to look nice when I arrived.

Mary is 90. Today is the day she will join the church. She has looked forward to this for months but she waited for one of her children to join her but she is still not ready. So Mary is prepared to do it alone.

As I walked into her condo she was asleep on the couch. I placed the fresh cut lilacs on her table, set all my stuff down, took off my shoes, then sat on the floor. It's easier for Mary if I sit on the floor to talk with her. That way her bentoverness will not bother her.

I called her name, patting her on the arm. She could barely open her eyes. "Are you ready to join the church today?" I asked her. She nodded.

I asked her all the perfunctory questions. Each time she whispered her answer. Then I asked her her favorite song. "In the Garden," she replied, "my mother used to sing it around the house all the time.

I sang Mary's song to her and to you in a cracky voice since I've still not gotten back my full voice from being sick. I knew Mary wouldn't care. She's heard me sing and she loves it when I sing in the sermon. She says I bear a resemblance to her mother so singing her mother's favorite song was wonderful. Mary mouthed each word, her hand squeezing mine more and more as I sang the full song. Tears formed in her eyes. I knew something powerful was happening inside her. What a privilege to share in the experience of faith with someone I care about deeply.

About that time she was able to sit up, open her eyes. She talked with me and asked her daughter to write the church a check for $100. I told her I was free, that she did not have to pay to join the church. She insisted. It was what she wanted to do.

I held Mary's hands and we talked just a bit. I knew she was wearying and she was expecting her favorite nieces to arrive the next day. She would need her strength. I prayed with her, gave her a hug, and bid her ado. She was smiling.

A heavenly love
was borne
in her living room.
A love for heaven,
for me,
for the church.
Mary's a member,
a dream fulfilled.
And joy
was borne too,
heaven's joy.

Gratefully, Andrea