“Every new day is a renewal. The opportunity to
write a few fresh words in the chapter of life…”
- Anonymous
The old fellow was watching for the sun in the early morning. The dawn was just beginning, the hummingbirds had arrived and the plants that surrounded him were beginning to take on a slight but muted color.
He knew the sun didn’t rise— the earth actually rolled into it. He used to say that, but it seemed to confuse some folks, so he would nod his head, smile, and just say “yup” when they asked if he had seen the beautiful sunrise that morning.
This day, as was his custom, he was in his ‘morning read,’ touched by some inspirational writings, drinking a cup of coffee, talking to the trees (they share 50% DNA with us, you know), and whispering gentle prayers of gratitude for the life he had led.
While riding the blue ball and waiting for the emergence of the sun, his mother showed up. As happened to him from time to time, she appeared unannounced and uninvited. You see, the times he tried to bring her to mind, he only got brief glimpses. They were good, but when she slipped in like this, he knew she would stay as long as she felt like it.
Yep, riding the planet in the morning was one thing, but riding it with her…well, that was special.
*
It was harder for the old man to get around these days, but when he was sitting still in the mornings, he felt no different than when he was quietly sitting at any age. So here he was, comfortable, and waiting to see what the woman had in mind.
When his mother showed up like this, she was always middle-aged, vibrant, with the loving spirit he had always known.
“Come along,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I thought I would take you back a little. I want to remember a few things with you.”
In the blink of an eye, they were sitting together as they had as long as he could remember. This time he was five, and she was telling stories.
On these occasions, she would sometimes break into song. Yep, that woman loved to sing…It was never loud and boisterous, but almost cheerfully prayerful. Kinda like the words and music were a part of her breath and her heart. It didn’t matter what they were…church songs, camp songs, songs of inspiration. There was an intimacy coming from deep inside her, personal like. She told him once she learned scriptures as a little girl by singing them…particularly, the Psalms of David.
This time, the story was of Samuel, a little boy from the Old Testament.
*
“In olden days,” she said, “there was a man who had two wives.”
She told him where they were from, but it was a long name, and even now, the old man couldn’t remember it.
“The man’s name was Elkana, and the wives were Pininnah and Hannah.”
“Wait a minute, Mummy,” her little boy said. “What do you mean he had two wives?”
His mother always encouraged him to ask questions when he didn’t understand something. She would say, asking questions meant he was a good listener. She was also wise enough to know how much or little to give as an answer. Sometimes, she knew, a little would be enough for the moment. Later he would be ready for more.
She also knew it was important to say when she wasn’t sure.
“Well, honey,” she replied with a smile and a pat on his head. “I don’t really know. It’s just what was in the story.”
“Okay, I was just wondering. Keep goin’,”
She already had his attention, and not having a good answer didn’t bother him.
She continued the story and told him that Pininnah had lots of children, but Hannah didn’t seem like she could have any. Hannah had prayed and prayed, but it just didn’t happen.
“Then one time when Hannah was in the church, they called it a temple back then, she was praying really hard, and the head priest heard her. She was talking under her breath, and he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He thought maybe she had been drinking too much wine.”
When the priest stopped her, he let her know she couldn’t be in the temple after having had too much wine.
“No,” she said. “I have not been drinking, I have been praying to God for a real long time to ask if He would give me a child. I was just telling him that if would bless me with a son, I would return the boy back to God.”
Well sure enough, when she went home after all that praying, God answered her prayer, and nine months later a baby boy was born. She called him Samuel.
“She took care of that boy, and somewhere between the ages of three and five, your age, Hannah took him back to Eli the priest. She reminded the old man of her promise and said she wanted to give the boy to Eli to teach him the ways of God. Eli did that, and Samuel became one of the great priests and prophets of God’s people.”
*
The little boy’s mother always had a lesson to share, after telling her boy stories.
The old fellow knew what was coming but wanted to hear it again.
“There’s something I want to share with you,” she said to her little boy.
The old man could also hardly wait for her to say the words.
“Honey,” she said. “You don’t belong to your father and me.”
There was a confused look on her youngster’s face.
“Wh..what do you mean?” he asked.
She took his hand and gently patted his face, and this is what she said.
“Your father and I prayed and prayed and prayed that God would give us a son. We promised Him, just like Hannah did, that if He gave us one, we would give the child back to Him. You see, your father and I loved each other so much, that I got pregnant. So, you came from your daddy and me, but your real Father is God. We are putting your life in His hands.”
The boy wasn’t exactly sure what she meant, but the way she told it, didn’t make him afraid, it made him feel safe.
After he had given this a little thought, he said.
“Mummy, tell me about babies when they are born?”
The old fellow and his mother smiled at one another and chuckled, remembering how glad she had been that day that the boy hadn’t asked, how babies were made.
“Well,” she said. Let me tell you about Tommy Boy.
To be continued…
-ted
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