Every Friday, a whole bunch of bloggers get together at LisaJo's for a 5-minute writing festival. The prompt comes out at midnight. The rules are simple. Five minutes. You get five minutes to say what you have to say. I have to admit, I cheat a little. I look at the prompt and let myself stew on it for awhile before I sit down in front of the computer. And then --- it's ready, set, go. I do add the picture and scripture outside of the timeframe...
This week's prompt: MERCY
Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.
We tumbled out of the car like an upended box of warm puppies - into the Indiana-farm air of alfalfa fields, soybeans and hogs. Sweet and sour. Finally at Grandma's. And there she was, standing on the porch in her apron and dress, socks halfway up her gnarly calves of varicose veins, wisps of gray hair like a halo.
"Lord 'a mercy! How you've grown!" She always said the same thing, in the same way - wrapping us up in arms that smelled like cinnamon and talcum powder - in a hug the size of Texas. And folded into that bosom of love, we felt claimed. Home. Even though we'd never lived in the country, on that one-lane road, twisting and turning through planted fields and stands of trees. We were the city cousins - come for our yearly visit.
"Lord 'a mercy!" I loved the way she talked; things were purty, and she got away with saying ain't. Less formal - softer around the edges - relaxed. Memories spill over in my mind - card games around the kitchen table, fresh milk, chasing chickens, hide and seek in the hayloft, and always Grandma. Cooking for the troops of relatives come to visit. Doughnuts and cinnamon rolls in the freezer - canned fruits and vegetables, farm-fresh tomatoes, butchered bacon and beef. She was so happy, surrounded by family. Her laughter bubbled up from a deep, holy place inside like water from a well - it poured over us, sparkling cool and fresh. Cleansing us of city sarcasm and city schedules.
Time stood still at Grandma's. And peace endured. She made a home for us in that country world. Lord 'a mercy - she knew how to show love.
Father God, thank you for these precious memories.
Linking with LisaJo at 5-Minute Friday