My mother was an amazing woman...
Tucked neatly all tied up in a bow was every rhyme she ever heard...every nursery story known to man in the free world....games.............some she knew....some she made up...
My mother was a one stop Miss Jeanne, Mary Poppins, Captain Kangaroo wrapped up into one remarkable, giggly wonderful character.
She was cheerful, warm and goofy. She had the ability to listen endlessly to two syllable, poorly formed words and yet still be able to pretend she was in the midst of animated conversation. She drank more "imagination tea and coffee" then I will probably drink in a lifetime. She was patient and attentive and oh so accepting.
A local real estate "ad page" and a small notebook would turn a rainy afternoon with no toys and no where to go into a young man's first entrepreneurial shot at selling property...to the most flattering and personable buyers of course...all with their own voices and their own quirks and their own costumes....... making for continuous laughter and overdramatic dialogue.
A crayon and the back of an old, used envelope would in moments magically tell the story of an entire village made up of oyster and cupcake families, highlighting especially the wholesome mischief the children would get into....with smirks and giggles.
Every babysitting session with "Nana" was a cross between an afternoon with Mr. Rogers and a good old fashioned "Davy and Goliath" episode. All games were fun and esteem building and there was always a moral at the end of the day. All stories and games always ended up somehow with loving God, or singing to Jesus or even buying a church! LOL
With this task before me...I am lost............ :) I will have to find my own way.
It may look more like playing games on my cell phone or reading...not sure I inherited the "imagination gene" but I look into the bright blue eyes of that little boy and it makes me want to try.............try harder than ever!
He also stirs in me a desire to pray....not unlike my mother who loved her Lord Jesus. I want to pray for him, and all his little organs, and what's going on in his mind, and for his parents, and his school and his future.........also looking deep into his eyes and watching him curl his little legs up like a frog makes me smile, giggle and smirk too....guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree afterall, but don't hold your breath to see me playing with play dough or serving biscuits or oatmeal....I will have to find my own way! :)
That's all for now.
Cheryl
Carol Kennedy Smith 1930 - 2004
