Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Dearest God,

This morning as I prepared to go strawberry picking at a local farm, I told my husband I was going to take my grandmother with me.  He smiled knowing my farm girl ways come from my grandmother who died more than 30 years ago.  The living memory of my favorite grandma brings me great joy as I remember so many experiences with her particularly in my childhood.

When I arrived at the farm one car was leaving meaning I had the huge rolling field all to myself.  The woman who worked there offered to help me.  Within minutes I realized this woman reminded me of my beloved grandmother.  A retired nurse, she was accustomed to taking care of people.  My grandmother grew way more vegetables and fruits than she could ever use because she wanted to share her produce with those who were hungry.  The farm hand talked about picking berries and making jam.  Oh, how I remember tromping through the woods with Grandma, finding black raspberries, and filling up containers with plump, tasty fruit.  The woman had dirt under her nails from working in the field.  All summer long Grandma's nails carried the rich soil of her family's farmland as she plucked tomatoes, cucumbers, corn, and radishes to name a few and pulled daily weeds from her vegetable and flower gardens.  Intuitively I knew Grandma was near.

As other hearty pickers arrived, the woman left the muddy path to assist others.  A woman about my age stepped onto a path near mine.  Bending over with her large aluminum bowl we began to talk as grandmas like to do when pondering their love for their grandchildren.  As the woman talked about a recent hip replacement, she shared how sad she is at how fast the time seems to be going by.  That was when I felt Grandma the closest.  "Oh my," I said, "every day is a gift, a blessing and if we feel sad because the days are moving so swiftly we miss the beauty of the present day."  As she filled her bowl to the brim, she stood and thanked me for my words of wisdom.  I got the impression she thought she got more than berries as she picked enough to freeze for a pie.

All throughout her life Grandma Hughes offered words of comfort and encouragement to others.  She had a smile that was pure and sweet, so authentic because it was the love she felt from you and she wanted to give it away to others.  She was like that, giving, loving, compassionate, tender, and caring.

As I drove away muddy nearly from head to toe from all the rain, with 12 quarts of luscious berries, tears welled in my eyes as I was very much aware that my grandmother had indeed been present with me, in the path to my right and the path to my left, and even in my own path.

Gracious and Loving God,
thank you
for daily treasures,
for surprise sightings,
and glorious moments
of mysterious,
sacred delight.
Your blessings
overwhelm me
when I pause
to think
about the gifts
of the day.
When I
am open,
I find you
all about me
in my
daily doings.
I am
so very grateful.
Thank you.

Love always, Andrea