When we moved to Vincennes in June, 1989, we found a large, single floor home built in 1954. This house eventually became our favorite parsonage because of the amount of storage, the two-sink, long-counter bathroom that Sarah and Anna shared, and the living room located in the back of the house.
A large, glass window spanned the length of the living room offering a view of our neighbor's pond and gazebo.
Our large backyard that I mowed each week was filled with moles that made a network of underground tunnels. Hills appearing from these tunnels made mowing a challenge. The uneven surface of the yard formed interesting topography as I pushed the mower over "hills and valleys."
One day I was getting the lawn mower from the rust-colored shed located in the side-yard. I noticed a small patch of Lilies of the Valley flowers growing next to the concrete porch. Setting aside the mower, I stooped down to get a close view of this plant. The tiny, white bell-shaped flowers were delicate and pure white. My hand behind the flower made a canvas highlighting the beauty.
In that moment I remembered a song I used to sing at the Brownie day camp I attended for a week when I was eight and nine years old.
White coral bells upon a slender stalk.
Lilies of the Valley deck my garden wall.
Oh don't you wish that you could hear them ring.
That will happen only when the fairies sing.
We sang in a round. Although I did not have a melodious voice, I do remember appreciating the mingling of words and harmony that happened.
Sometimes an object or book or smell will remind us of something pleasant from long ago. I was grateful for the memory of a song from seeing a flower growing in my yard.
Today I pray that you too may have a thought or image or from the past that makes you smile.