LACE and GRACE

Yesterday, I remembered

those summer days 

of my childhood …

those days that

brought out the best

of a mother and daughter

and Queen Anne’s Lace.

“Go out and play,” she would say

and I found myself running 

to the empty field.

At times, it was the

kite-flying field.

Other times, it was the

tag-playing field.

And still other times,

it was a baseball field,

beckoning very young, giggly players,

to run through weeds

toward imaginary bases.

But on a perfect day

the field would be filled

with Queen Anne’s Lace.

The little boys wanted 

nothing to do with such things

as flowers

so the field was mine.

No kites … 

no shouts of “Tag, you’re it” …

no giggles or the shouts of

“Run, run, runnnnnn!”

I was alone in a field of beauty.

Alone with flowers to be picked.

Many consider these flowers

to be weeds, 

but not me and not my mother.

At the sight of my bouquets of

Queen Anne’s Lace,

my mother would fill jars 

with water tinted by food coloring.

The stems of “lace” were divided

and I would put them in the jars,

knowing how thirsty they were.

Yellow, blue, red, green water.

The jars looked like stained glass.

And soon, the white flowers of 

Queen Anne’s Lace would 

become the colors of the water.

"Drink, for you are thirsty!

Drink, and become even more beautiful!

Drink, and be filled!"

This morning, I will think

of Lace and Grace as I,

along with many others,

receive Holy Communion.

"Drink, for you are thirsty!

Drink, and become even more beautiful!

Drink, and be filled!

Drink, and become the colors of Christ

   in this world!

Drink, for not one of you

is a weed!"

LACE and GRACE.