5 X Mama, Happy Mother’s Day!

May9

Head Shot   I looked at my young daughter, her stomach artistically decorated with bright markers. There was no doubt in my mind as to what had inspired her. The night before, we had read Purple, Green and Yellow by Robert Munsch, a children’s story  in which the heroine, Brigid, “…colored her belly-button blue. And that was so pretty, she colored herself all sorts of colors almost entirely all over.” The artwork faded from my daughter’s skin, but  her passion for books continued.  Now, as an adult in her twenties, Andrea  devours books, even if she refrains from plastering her belly-button with markers!

As a 5 X Mama, with four daughters and one son, I am convinced that one of the most important things you can do for your children is to read to them. Books have always played a huge role in my own life. My mother said, that as a child, I carried a book with me on outings, instead of a doll. Libraries were like treasures mines, complete with enticing covers, intriguing titles and dramatic tales. By the time I was eleven, I managed to talk the children’s librarian of our local library into hiring me as a page, to put books away and do other small duties. Finally, I entered the classroom as an   English teacher, sharing novels, poems and drama with teenagers, before embarking on another exciting career, as a 5 X Mama. Naturally, books were right, left and centre in our home.

My husband shared  my passion. When our babies were born, he read and re-read The Lord of the Rings trilogy, while he rocked fussy infants to sleep, and generously gave me some rest. Then when they were older – but not much older – he read the trilogy to them. When our youngest daughter turned 18 last November, her older sister, who once coloured her tummy-button, did much of the work planning a surprise Lord of the Rings theme party for her, complete with costumes, decorations and special food such as “orc pudding.”  My husband, dressed up as Gandalph, read to his now adult children, from one of Tolkien’s books.

All of our lives we tell ourselves stories, and we share those stories with others. Words have the unique ability to create, to empower, and ultimately to determine the course of our days. When children hear a wide variety of stories, the possibilities for creative and imaginative excursions are endless. Through stories, children learn how to respond intelligently and sensitively to the many influences and circumstances of their lives. They learn to look beyond themselves to the needs of others and to relate compassionately to people different from themselves.

In  5 X Mama, one of my goals is to share some of the wonderful stories I enjoyed with my own children, as well as to explore newer books. The possibilities are endless and in this age of digital distractions, it is perhaps more important than ever, that books make an immediate and emphatic presence in children’s lives. Besides all of this, reading books with children is just plain fun and gives parents, grandparents and educators opportunities to connect and converse, that would perhaps otherwise be lost.

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An enchanting Mother’s Day book to share with your little ones is The Mother’s Day Mice by Eve Bunting. Three mice, Biggest, Middle and Little, go on a private adventure to find just the right gift for their mother. In spite of courting near disaster with a cat, each finds something special. Little discovers the best gift within himself  and in a spirit of generosity says that his present is from them all! Jan Brett’s detailed and colourful illustrations perfectly complement the text.

Do you have books you treasured as a child or enjoy reading to your children? I would love to hear about them! Have a memorable and blessed Mother’s Day!

Disclaimer: Copies of books discussed are my own or from the library, unlessotherwise stated.

Falling in love with Scotland

Apr17

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My mother once told me, in her practical wisdom, that most of life consists of day to day living. She said that life has its mountain top experiences, but these are the exception, not the norm. Of course, she was right. Our days and weeks, months and years consist largely of the small pleasures of our normal routine. However, once in a while, something so fresh and unexpected comes along, that our outlook is never quite the same afterwards. This was my experience visiting Scotland for the first time.

When Elizabeth I ruled England, one of the biggest uncertainties was her future successor.  She died in 1603, without a child of her own, and the crown was handedto King James VI of Scotland. In 1707, the Act of Union created Great Britain, consisting of England, Scotland and Wales. The Scots had always had a strong sense of their own nationality.  In the time of Roman Britain, the Emperor Hadrian was unable to occupy Scotland and instead built Hadrian’s wall, to keep the Celts out of British territory. Heroes such as Braveheart and Bonnie Prince Charlie  fought for their country, hoping to free Scotland from outside interference. Even now, Scotland has its own currency, the  Gaelic language, and a unique culture. A referendum has even been set for September 18, 2014, to ask the question, “Should Scotland be an independent country?”

During our first day in Scotland, we sailed down Loch Lomond, admired the  breathtaking scenery, sipped complementary tea and listened to the stories of a Scottish tour guide. Later, while my family went up the side of Ben Nevis in a cable car, I remained sensibly on the ground, browsed through some local stores in Fort William, and compared the products to what we sold at the department store I worked at in Canada. That evening, at our hotel in Newtonmore, a Highlander, dressed in full regalia, played the bagpipes and in a short  ceremony artfully presented the haggis, a dish made of sheep’s liver or intestines. The next day, we toured Blair Castle, built in 1269. Our guide told us that Queen Victoria and Prince Andrew had once visited the castle and gifted the presiding duke with his own private army. For lunch, we stopped at  St. Andrew’s, which has as at least three claims to fame, as a well known golfer’s paradise, the city where Prince William went to university, and the setting for the opening and closing scenes of Chariots of Fire. In the evening, after a meal of salmon and potato chowder, I had a conversation with a charming Scotsman who very obligingly explained to me the different parts of his costume.

In the morning, we drove to Edinburgh, took a tour of The Royal Mile and Princess  Street, and  enjoyed some free time to explore on our own. At the Writers’ Museum at Lady  Stair’s House, we saw displays on three famous Scottish authors: Robert Burns, Robert Louis Stevenson and Sir Walter Scott. Robert Burns, my daughter Hannah’s favourite poet, has remained so famous that many people still celebrate Robbie Burns Day each year on January 25th. Burns’ poem, Auld Lang Syne (“for old time’s sake”) is often used to usher in the new year.

While my family lingered over lunch, I walked up the street  and forced my way through a very heavy door into a gift shop on the lower level of St. Gile’s Cathedral. Since many of the cathedrals in the UK charge admittance, I was pleased to discover that St. Gile’s did not.  I ran back to encourage my dawdling family to finish lunch, so we could tour the cathedral together. Inside the cathedral was a statue of John Knox, a famous Calvinist preacher, who once graced the pulpit of St. Giles and preached a reformist message of salvation through grace. He had a particular antipathy towards the beliefs and practices of  Mary Queen of Scots and is credited as an instrumental player in the development of the Protestant Reformation in Scotland. At the John Knox house, we saw some fascinating  manuscripts and descriptions of his life and work.

Hannah and I went off look through some stores and were drawn into a little shop with the unusual  name, The Tappit Hen. When I asked the saleslady what the name meant, she said that it referred to a type of drinking mug and showed me where it was located in the store window. The shop also sold Celtic jewelry and an intriguing  item called a quaich, a  two -handled cup which is presented as a friendship gift on special occasions.

On the bus, our tour guide played the Scottish song, “Loch Lomond” and for weeks afterwards, its haunting tune  played in my mind. We drove through the Scottish highlands, saw the heather on the hills and the  cows called “hairy coos” roaming the fields. Perhaps it was the romantic story of the lovers in “Loch Lomond,” the beauty of the landscape, my love for my husband who sat beside me on the bus or the brogue and friendliness of the Scottish people. Perhaps it was because Scotland caught me off guard, a place I had always thought would be interesting to visit but had never dreamed of, as I had  England. Whatever it was, my unexpected love affair with Scotland is something I will never forget and never recover from.

Coventry, a lesson in forgiveness

Mar27

In Coventry, England, two churches stand side by side. One is a bomb shelled husk, a grim reminder of the flames and devastation of World War 2. The other is the new church, built after the old one was destroyed. Two churches. Two messages. One symbolizes the horrors of death, while the other the miracles of life and restoration.

Why is the old church still standing? To the people of Coventry, the sight of the bombed structure is a reminder that good triumphs over evil. When German bombs destroyed lives and property, in a 10 hour attack on the city, the people chose to focus on forgiveness.

As Easter approaches, Christians focus on two symbols of faith: the cross and the empty tomb. One represents sacrifice and death, the other resurrection and life. We are reminded that as Christ sacrificed his life for us, we need to share his love with others. Sharing Christ’s love in an imperfect world always requires forgiveness.

What would have happened if the people of Coventry had decided not to forgive? They would have lost the opportunity, not only for their own healing, but for the privilege of being an  example of faith and hope to the rest of the world. Forgiveness is always the most powerful option and Jesus has shown us the way through the cross and the empty tomb.

Have a blessed Easter!

Tadeo Turtle by Janis Cox

Mar12

51nYhveE+AL._SL500_AA300_Tadeo is a happy and contented turtle, pleased with how God has created him, until he observes the activities of Sammy Squirrel. Suddenly, Tadeo views his most unique feature, his shell or carapace, as a burden. He wants to be like Sammy and his shell is definitely in the way!

Canadian author and illustrator, Janis Cox, in her breathtaking  picture book, Tadeo Turtle, weaves a classic tale of adventure and self discovery. The simple plot line is high paced and the water colour illustrations enchantingly beautiful. The names of the major characters are  in  bold type, making it easy for young children to identify them.

Tadeo Turtle is designed for home schooling, Sunday School, Christian schools and individual use. Janis Cox is a retired elementary school teacher and teaches, as well as entertains. In addition to the story, she provides an activity section which contains craft ideas and research facts and links. A detailed curriculum is also available on Janis’s website: www.janiscox.com.

Tadeo’s name is acquired from the name, Thaddeus, which means “heart” or “praise.”  After a close encounter with a cat, Tadeo undergoes a heart and attitude adjustment, and is thankful to God for creating him exactly as he is. Both children and adults can relate to the timeless messages of gratitude and self acceptance.

Order a copy of Tadeo Turtle  at Barnes and Noble/Amazon/Chapters.

Trees of the Book by Kimberley Payne

Mar5

540960_492598240776469_642487069_nDid you know that trees are traditionally “symbols of success,” that the prophet, Elijah, hid under a broom tree, or that a mustard tree is fully grown in approximately 40 days?

Canadian author, Kimberley Payne, in her outstanding 14 page activity book, Trees of the Book, allows seven trees of the Bible to tell their personal  stories.

“Hi, I’m a oak tree,” the first tree explains. The oak, cedar, broom, mustard, fig, sycamore and palm  trees describe their settings and significance in well known Biblical narratives. Included in each short chapter are also “Fast Facts,” “Think About” questions,  references to additional Bible verses and fun and informative activities.

After the trees have their say, Kimberley Payne helpfully provides project ideas and activity solutions,  plus a glossary and “People of the Bible” section to define bold type,  highlighted words.

The text is well supported by the beautiful art work of illustrator, Esther Haug. She uses bright  colours and extremely clear details to educate and entertain.

Trees of the Book, written for 7 to 9 year olds, is an excellent resource for home, school or church use. A Sunday School or Vacation Bible School could successfully plan a unit around the trees, their stories and the suggested activities. Trees are universal in their appeal and this is a book to be enjoyed  by children, parents and educators.

Kimberley Payne is a well known author of family, devotional and fitness books, including the award winning devotional, Where Fitness Meets Faith.

Trees of the  Book is available at Amazon/Chapters/Barnes and Noble.

Tower of London

Feb1

We walked up the steps from  Tower Hill tube station. I gasped in delight as we emerged into the sunshine. There, right before us, walls rising out of the mists of history, was the Tower of London! This was the England I had dreamed of. We were about to  cross the street and step straight back in time!

When William the Conqueror began assembling the White Tower in the 1070s, he intended to impress the boisterous Londoners with his authority. Future monarchs contributed towers, curtain walls, moats, furnishings and whatever else was required for safety and comfort. What was the Tower used for?  Some kings sought out the Tower for protection against angry barons and rebellious mobs. The Tower contained The Royal Mint, the Office of Ordnance and a menagerie (a forerunner of a zoo), which housed, among other unusual occupants, a bear, lions, monkeys, a  hyena and an alligator! Of course, the most gruesome  and well known use of the Tower was as an execution site, including that of two of the ill fated wives of Henry VIII.

After going through security – and when you think of it security is what the Tower has been all about for centuries – we explored The Bloody Tower. This tower is set up with a display board portraying the mystery of two young princes, who were thought to have come to an untimely death at the orders of  King Richard III, their treacherous uncle.

What probably intrigued me most, though, in The Bloody Tower, was Sir Walter Raleigh’s study, complete with a desk, chair, writing materials, fireplace and a large, framed picture on the wall. I wonder what he thought about, as he walked the Tower grounds and sat at his desk, writing The History of the World? Perhaps he dreamed of far off places, because in between imprisonments, Sir Raleigh went on several  sea voyages. The second  led to his execution by James 1st.

The Crown Jewels, in The Waterloo Barracks, beckoned to us. For my daughter, Hannah, this was the most exciting part of the Tower tour. When Charles 1st was executed in 1649, the ruling Commonwealth insisted that the Coronation Regalia be demolished. In 1660, Charles II was freshly endowed with jewels, when he began his reign in 1660. We rode on a moving platform past exquisite treasures. My husband asked a young guard how much one of the jewels was worth. He replied, “It is priceless.” I suppose he was correct. What price could such a jewel, steeped in history and tradition, be sold for?

However, on May 9th, 1671, Thomas Blood evidently viewed the jewels as extremely lucrative. He and his partners bound the unfortunate Keeper of the Crown Jewels and proceeded to plunder the riches. They were caught, but in a world where thieves could be put to death, the robber managed to talk the king into a royal pardon. A version of this story was actually preformed in the Tower courtyard, where we sat for a time, eating waffle sticks with chocolate sauce and  conversing with a couple from Enfield, Nova Scotia. Hannah asked for cream for her coffee but was told that she was in the wrong country! Is coffee cream a Canadian tradition?

In the courtyard, we also watched the Yeomen Warders or Beefeaters converse with the crowds. These lively performers  provide tours and their own brand of entertainment. They are immediately recognizable in their blue and red  Tudor style outfits. The Warders live right on the grounds with their families, and I am sure provide their children with their own slant on history!

My husband, Andrew, felt the Tower was well worth the admission price, because it was like having a number of small museums in one place. He was especially interested in the exhibit Fit For a King, in the White Tower, which features suits of armour and gives tourists a good idea of the size of the kings wearing them. There is even armour belonging to either a very small king or a child. All kinds of details are explained and we could easily have spent much more time learning about armour and the kings who donned it.

No trip to the Tower of London could be complete without contemplating the deaths of Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard and Lady Jane Grey. Anne and Catherine, wives of Henry Vlll,were beheaded ostensibly for adultery, but a guide told my husband that they were most likely innocent. 16 year old Lady Jane Grey was queen for merely nine days and executed for solely political reasons.

According to a guide, Queen Victoria felt extremely sorry for the victims. Today, on Tower Green, there is a monument, designed by Brian Catling and put in place in 2006.  Around the base of the memorial is written Catling’s tribute:  “Gentle visitor pause awhile. Where you stand death cut away the light of many days. Here jewelled names were broken from the vivid thread of life. May they rest in peace while we walk the generations around their strife and courage, under these restless skies ” (punctuation added). We were standing under the skies of Tower Green and could only imagine these victims of political circumstance laying down  their lives, while spectators watched nearby. Did Henry VIII feel any remorse as he watched his wives beheaded at his own command or did he feel, as supreme monarch, that he was somehow justified?

Andrew and the girls went off to see the instruments of torture, but I had spent enough time climbing long, narrow staircases and stood instead by Traitor’s Gate,where prisoners once arrived along the Thames in barges. I  thought of the prisoners and those who had power over them. Was Henry VIII, who by our standards, murdered two of his young wives, convinced he was right, overtaken by religious conscience or  merely a dictator who could get his own way? If he were to walk out into the sunshine at Tower Hill tube station, and look across the street at the Tower, would he gasp in delight, as a 21st century tourist might, or would he gasp in horror at a world he could barely comprehend? It is probably fair to say that we cannot fully comprehend his world either. Regardless, the Tower stands as a tribute to human courage, is a  famous  World Heritage Site, and is an absolute must to see during any tour of London, England!

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Bells at Harrods

Nov19

I took a small, Christmas bell ornament off the rack. My husband, two youngest daughters and I were at Harrods, a famous and expensive department store, in London, England. It was August, too early for Christmas, but the colourful decoration was actually affordable and I wanted a souvenir to take home. Besides, when Christmas arrived, we would enjoy the cheerful ornament.

Bells have been ringing for hundreds of years and for a variety of reasons. Sometimes, as in John Donne’s famous lines, “…send not to know/ For whom the bell tolls,/ It tolls for thee” (“No Man is an Island”), bells signify death. At other times, bells are rung for joyful occasions, such as weddings or coronations. In churches, bells are used as a call to worship or as part of a mass. On July 27th, bells were heard all over the United Kingdom to announce the beginning of the 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games. Big Ben – the name of the bell, rather than the clock- is admired by millions of tourists.

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At Christmas, bells represent joy. Luke 2:13-14 describes the Bethlehem scene: “Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praisingGod and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favour rests’” (NIV). The angels announced the coming of the Christ Child with great rejoicing. Even though bells are not specifically mentioned, it isn’t hard to imagine an angelic chorus ringing bells from on high!

This December, I have been asked to be the bell ringer for our church play, and somehow this seems appropriate. 2012 has been a “bell ringing” year for our family. We have celebrated our oldest daughter’s wedding, a university convocation, our youngest daughter’s Grade 12 graduation and 18th birthday, several children entering college and a dream trip to Iceland and the UK. These have all been milestone events and reasons for great happiness.

We have also experienced more subtle forms of joy: colourful flowers blooming on sunny mornings, stacks of good books on our desks and shelves, walks on sandy beaches, acquiring a car after years of doing without, getting much needed dental work completed and enjoying wonderful conversations with the incredibly awesome people in our world. Happiness is very often a choice and gratitude and recognition of our blessings plays a large part in how we view our lives.

Sometimes, though, we have to purposely and steadfastly ring our bells, through times of darkness. This year, the tragic death of a friend, the loss of a job I have loved and the ongoing illness of my niece have brought with them a sense of grief and loss. The birth of Jesus reminds us that light and joy are always present, even during those times when our circumstances don’t reflect them.

The Christmas season has arrived. The bell ornament I purchased in August from Harrods is hung in a place all its own. It is a symbol that the joy of God is ever present. Zephaniah 3:17 says, “The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” As 2012 draws to a close, ring your bells and anticipate with joy the blessings God has in store for your future!

Merry Christmas!

Fran by the Sea

Iceland

Sep19

“Do you use processed meat?” my daughter asked the dark haired lady behind the counter at the Loki Cafe. We were jet lagged, hungry and in need of something that Susanna could eat that didn’t contain the soy products so often found in processed foods.

“What is processed meat?” the lady replied. “All my meat is hanging up back there,” she explained, with a gesture towards the back of the cafe. We were reassured. There would be no soy in the food. We sat down at one of the little tables and enjoyed a delicious meal of Icelandic meat soup, rye bread and chocolate cake with whipped cream.

My husband, two daughters and I were in Reykjavik, en route to a tour of England, Scotland and Wales. This was my dream trip, given to me by my loving family, who knew how I had always longed to see England. Spending several days in Reykjavik was an added and exciting bonus.

After  our meal and a good night’s sleep, we set out to see the sights of the city. “There is no charge, today,” the bus driver said to my husband, when he tried to give him a ticket. We had unexpectedly stumbled upon Reykjavik’s Culture Day, which included special events, free museums and buses, shop displays and fireworks. Thousands of Icelanders walked the streets, delighting us with their unique and  lilting accents. Blonde children ran everywhere. Babies, in tight fitting bonnets, rode in what looked to me like old fashioned carriages. Susanna was horrified to find a baby parked unattended in a pram, outside a store. However, there is very little crime in Iceland and the thought of someone snatching a baby is a foreign one. Placing an infant outside to enjoy the sunshine is common and safe.

The shops beckoned to us and my husband, who seldom purchases anything beyond necessities, bought a book called The Little Book of The Icelanders by Alda Sigmundsdottir. This book is divided into topics explaining many quirks and customs of the Icelandic people. We had already noted the habit of the drivers to ignore hapless pedestrians trying to cross the roads!!

I made a small purchase of my own and was startled when the saleslady said, “That will be 1,000.”

“1,000?” I squealed.

“”1,000,” she repeated calmly, no doubt wondering if all Canadians were as dense as I was. She meant 1,000 ISK, about eight  dollars, but hearing 1,000 in any currency gives me a fright!

We wandered into a fabulous bookstore called Mal og Menning and discovered a cafe, Sufistinn, on the second floor. Now this was something I could understand: an Icelandic Chapters/ Starbucks!! Well, not exactly, but the concept seemed the same, good books and food in combination. Some of the titles were in Icelandic but many were in English. We had croissants, Earl Grey tea, coffee and other snacks  and perused  the stacks of literature.

Some of the restaurants offered  delicacies such as puffin and whale. A group of eager youth, intent on saving the whales, asked us to sign a petition promising that we would never eat whale meat. We signed immediately and have had no occasion to be tempted otherwise!

Later in the afternoon, we headed for the museums. Here we learned about the strength and resilience of the Icelandic people. We learned about Ingolfur Arnarson, an early settler in the Reykjavik area and Leif  Ericson, a voyager  who helped spread Christianity to Iceland and other parts of the world. In The Settlement Exhibition or Landnamssyningin, we pondered an excavated Viking longhouse, originating from about 930 AD. A diagram explained what the various parts of the longhouse were used for. We all recognize the horned helmets reportedly worn by Viking warriors, but here was a real house, once inhabited by real people, so different from us and yet perhaps with hopes and fears not that dissimilar.

The greatest discovery for me was that this little country, which I had barely thought about before our trip, has a long and rich literary history. At the Culture House, we discovered The Medieval Manuscripts: the Eddas and Sagas. My husband was fascinated to hear from a museum guide that Icelanders can read Old English much easier than we can, because of its strong resemblance to their own language. In a corner of the Culture House, we found a tribute to JRR Tolkien, author of The Hobbit and the famous The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Tolkien studied Old Icelandic at university and undoubtedly the stories he read influenced his own fanciful tales.

On our bus trip from Keflavik airport to Reykjavik and back, we were struck by the piles  of lava rock, scarcity of trees and looming volcanoes. A shop lady told us that we were fortunate that the weather was so warm. It was 20 degrees, a temperature that  is reached only once or twice during the summer months. Iceland, like many countries, has a history of control by foreign peoples. Large areas of land are not fit for human habitation. A man on a bus told me that there are more sheep in Iceland than people. The threat of volcanic eruption is ever present. Yet, out of all this has come a people who are independent, colourful, intelligent and rich in tales and legends. If you have the opportunity, this country is not to be missed!

Fran By the Sea

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Pulling Strings for Grandma

May10

Hansel and Gretel dwell in our house, along with a colourful array of companions, just waiting for someone to pull their strings. For years, these fairy tale characters delighted children in libraries and schools throughout the Toronto area, brought to life by the Adams Marionettes. In the 1950s, my mother-in-law, Maureen Adams, took a puppetry course at Queen’s University and was permanently hooked. She began with hand puppets, but as her family grew older, she and her husband, John, formed the Adams Marionettes, consisting of themselves, their four children, and a school friend, named Dan. The puppets captivated not only young audiences but the performers themselves, as the marionettes opened the door to a wide array of creative expression.

My mother-in-law loved puppetry because it involved many forms of art: drama, costumes, scene design, music, and story. The performances, enchanting as they were, were only part of the process. First, the Adams chose a folk tale, devised a script, added in sound effects, and taped the finished product.  The marionettes were made out of wood, with the heads devised from a plasticine mold. Next, the family sewed the costumes, painted the scenery, and spent a great deal of time in their backyard puppetry workshop, rehearsing the play. It was a family act, complete with Adams Marionette tee shirts and a special van to transport the stage, performers, and puppets.

My husband’s specialty was Rumpelstiltskin. As the little trickster danced his way across the stage, to the tune of  Ponchielli’s “Dance of the Hours,” Andrew danced behind the platform, copying his every move. Finally, when Rumpel realized he had been outsmarted by the miller’s daughter, he disappeared in a puff of smoke (baby powder), the clang of a cymbal, and the flash of a camera, never to be heard from again.

After the adult children went their separate ways, John and Maureen continued to attend many puppetry conferences in Canada and the U.S. and hold workshops in Brampton and Toronto.  Several times, they helped my husband and me with Vacation Bible Schools in the churches we served, assisting with puppet-making and performances. John died in 2005. In 2006, Maureen received the “Arts Person of the Year” award for her outstanding contribution to the arts in her Brampton community.

In early 2011, Maureen’s health declined and we flew from Nova Scotia to see her. I gave her a puppet that our daughter, Andrea, had brought home from Mexico. She held the puppet in her worn hands and stroked and stroked the tiny dress it was wearing. She asked my son, Christopher, to put it up on the bulletin board in her room, where she could see it from her bed. The gift brought her comfort, a reminder of all the stories her puppets had told.

About nine months after my mother-in-law’s death, I came home one day to find my youngest daughter, Susanna, rehearsing a marionette dance with two high school friends. A short time later, Hansel and Gretel danced on the stage of Prince Andrew High School, during “The Lonely Goatherd” scene in the school’s production of The Sound of Music. Strings were being pulled for Grandma once again!

Happy Mother’s Day and many joyful memories!