A Gift to Call My Own

What should have taken about 20 minutes quickly stretched into an hour. The chance to run freely through a dimly light church sanctuary was irresistible, and the task at hand, selecting a gift tag from the altar tree, was sidelined en lieu of exploration.

Mary was immensely curious about all the candles, and the statue of Mary (the Mary, not my small one) looming over the candle area. Together we lit a candle and I talked to the girls about remembering those who have died. For my grandmother, a very old soul Catholic, the Virgin Mary was the mother of all and the one to whom you appealed for help in any situation. My Mary nodded, very focused and interested.

Mary knelt down and I stepped away, over to the tree but still in hearing distance of her quiet, church appropriate, voice. She blessed herself, "Father, Son, Holy Spirit, amen" crossing her chest from right to left.

"Hello Mary, this is Mary. For Christmas, could Mimi and Grandaddy come back from heaven, just maybe for the day? That would make my mom really happy. Thank you".

She stood quietly, blessed herself again, and then promptly threw one small leg over the top of the kneeling bench. Wiggling furiously she managed to get her entire body on top, as if on a grocery store mechanical horse. Grabbing one leg, I pulled her down, just before she rode her horse into row after row of lit candles. Sitting on the step, I then said my own blessing, for this child, for her kindness and her spirit; and for the circle of life that brought her to me. 

Originally written several years ago, when Mary was six, this was the perfect story to share after reading The 13th Gift, this month's From Left to Write book selection. A holiday memoir, writer Joanne Huist Smith shares how the kindness of others helped her family come together and celebrate Christmas, after suffering a great loss. Join From Left to Write on October 28th as we discuss The 13th Gift.  As a member I received a copy of the book for review purposes.