Sorrow creeps into my heart
like a crazy caterpillar
and eats everything in sight.
Then falls exhausted
into a dreamy upside down slumber,
while the delicate paper-thin chrysalis
pulses with new life—
silent transformation.
From the broken walls of my heart
emerges a vivacious hope,
bourne up on the wings
of a butterfly.
There is something very special
about seeing cherry blossoms
by starlight
Their delicate sweetness
is made more poignant
by the surrounding darkness
Fruitful words are born in silence, as blossoms from a barren tree.
How beautifully the day dies
with slow and solemn gracefulness
Each cherished moment
revealing golden glory
Day taking her time
to say her wordless goodbye
And blushing gently
as her heart melts
into the evening sky
Little one
When you arrived
You were like a little rosebud
Picked in the rain
Crinkled, crimson, vulnerable
And I was afraid
Time would tarnish you further
My heart quaked before seeing you again
And I felt terrible to be a mother afraid
To see her own child
The first night it was true
You were so cold
As if the frost had bitten your beauty
And your stillness was so solemn
I left you that night
Weeping and broken
With a sprig of baby’s breath
Clutched in your tiny fists
But when we returned
Two days later to visit you
Kindly laid out by the hospital chaplain
You were rosier
Your cheeks were fuller
Like the little rosebud
Had begun to unfurl
Such a mercy
Your three biggest sisters
Could find you lovely
Patting your cheek
Holding your tiny hands in theirs
Proudly having their picture taken with you
Their baby
They took turns leaving kisses
On your sweet face
One of the few gifts
You could take to Heaven
But the most beautiful day of all
Was the last one we saw you
At the funeral chapel
Our sweet funeral director Michelle
Suggested I help dress you
In the one dress you’ll wear forever
The one I searched the city for
And finally found in a little Italian shop
On the east side of town
Where the Italian grandmas embraced me
And exclaimed “Que bella, que bella!” at your photo
It was a fall baptismal dress
A cosy knitted one from Europe
With a matching sweater and booties
Creamy white with little bits of shiny pink
The last one in the store
Meant for you
So the day before your funeral
Michelle brought you to us
Carrying you in her arms
With the affection and tenderness of a mother
Wrapped in your cosy blanket
The warmest and softest one I could find
And, little rose, you were in bloom!
Your beauty was enchanting
You sparkled as Daddy held you close
And I even laughed and said
You were our little snow queen
You looked so real, so alive
So much like a little baby sleeping
That your grandmother
Meeting you for the first time
Couldn’t help rocking you back and forth
“My baby, my baby!”
So many came that day
All your five children siblings
Your two uncles
And one aunt
And our friend Fr. Uy
Who delivered your crown
You must have felt the affection
Poured on you as everyone took their turn
To hold you, our precious one
And I remember my brother Monti
The one who flew from Hawaii to be here for me
Saying as he held you, “She’s ok. She’s really ok.”
And as we crowned you with a tiny crown
Of yellow and white flowers
Laced with sparkles
And a tiny medal of our Lady
Hand sewn for hours that morning
By a woman from the parish we hardly knew
You, darling, simply glowed
Sharing with us
A tiny glimpse
Of the radiance of Heaven
The stars go down
to rise upon some other shore,
and bright in Heaven’s jewelled crown,
they shine forever more.
John Luckey McCreery
One of the most exquisite gifts we received in honour of our baby Josephine’s passing was a star. I really mean it. My Uncle Dorn and Auntie Lenore had a star named after her. Because they figured we had enough flowers, and so that when the kids looked up into the sky, they could see her.
So, now and forevermore, there is a little shining star in the heavens named Josephine Pilar. Yes, this makes me cry, but with gratitude as well as sorrow. My beautiful, beautiful baby. My heart aches to be with you.
Before whom the stars at their posts
shine and rejoice.
When He calls them, they answer, “Here we are!”
shining with joy for their Maker.
Baruch 3: 34
“You’re pretty Mama!” My toddler said enthusiastically the other day as I stood in the kitchen in my pj’s.
“And I’m shiny!” she added beaming.
“Yes, you are.”
It’s true that she is. She shines, despite often scraggly hair and peanut butter in her face from lunch, because there is beauty within, and it can’t help but emanate from her.
It is said that the light of the eye enlightens whole body….children see beauty because they are filled with it, and they are filled with it because they can see and appreciate it.
We adults often fall into the trap of thinking that maturity means seeing primarily the darkness in the world, but often this cynicism is merely a defence mechanism. Instead of being vulnerable and enthusiastic, we remain critical and detached. We retreat into ourselves instead of connecting with the world.
The great British writer G.K. Chesterton wrote that there were two falls of man: in the first, man lost innocence by recognizing good and evil, and in the second, more recent fall, he fell again by losing sight of goodness and only seeing the evil.
The truth is that the world contains both. That reality is made up of light and darkness. That the tiniest candle burns away the darkness with an assurance of hope.
We all need to kindle this little fire inside ourselves…”Carry your candle, into the darkness, carry your candle, light up the world,” sings Chris Rice.
My little one’s candle burns brightly and joyfully. She isn’t afraid to wear all sorts of finery because she is confident of her beauty. A star isn’t afraid to sparkle, and I don’t mean an egotistical movie star, but one in the sky, which can’t help but shine.
Like a star she shares her light, and it falls upon those she sees. Recently we were playing in the grass outside the community centre where her big sisters have an art class, and we could see a class of older women dancing through the open door.
“Look at the princesses, Mama! There’s Ariel!”
Given that they were mostly older short-haired Asian women of various shapes and sizes, this was a bit of a stretch, but a lovely one. That were dancing, and that was enough to make them royally beautiful in her eyes.
She isn’t afraid to be herself, and because she accepts herself as she is, she accepts others as they are as well. Isn’t this the meaning of unconditional love?
If more of us lived this kind of love, the world would be a more beautiful place…or rather, our hearts would be open to see all the hidden beauty that is already there.
So go out and sparkle: chances are others will shine in the glow of your reflection, too.
Just East Of Crazy Land 