My Mother's Cross

When I was a very little girl, I was fascinated by a cross necklace my mother had. It was decorated with pearls and in the middle was a little window where you could look and see the Lord's Prayer. Oh, how I coveted that necklace! I just thought it was the neatest thing ever. How did they manage to tuck that entire prayer in that tiny little window? HOW!?

Well, my mother and dad passed, within hours of each other, in September 2023. We (mostly my little sister) have been sorting through their things, and look what has turned up: my mother's cross necklace. When I came back from our Sunday visiting, the cross was in my own hot little hands, at long last.

It isn't really gold and those aren't really pearls, but look: there is the window that you can peer inside and see the Lord's Prayer! Now, I did put my eye to it, and I don't know if the cross has changed, or if my eyes have changed, but it's harder than ever to read those tiny little words. But I know them by heart. So maybe it doesn't matter. I know what's there.

I looked it up and I learned a thing. The tiny glass window is called a Stanhope viewer, and it was developed by a man named Charles, the third Earl of Stanhope. It is actually a simple, one-piece microscope, and was very popular in the 19th century. Cool, huh?

I was raised in a Methodist home. My mother was never a proselytizer of people, never one to go out and shout her beliefs from the rooftops. She was more a woman of quiet faith. We were taught early to believe in Jesus, to love one another, and to take care of each other, as Jesus said. (In other words, we are the Dolly Parton variety* of Christians.) Oh, and among all things, my mother could not tolerate a liar. 

I am more like her. I am not a public speaker on the topic of religion. But if you look closely, you will see the things that I believe in woven through all of my photos, tucked inside every story. I believe in the magic that runs through all things, that sings like electricity, that comes from the great Maker. I believe in Jesus, and I cherish his words and his example above all else. I try to live a life filled with love, and forgiveness, and reconciliation, and looking out for, and taking care of. And speaking the truth. I do not need for you to believe exactly what I do for me to love you completely, or to be your true friend.

It is strange to be reunited with an object of childhood obsession. I am like the dog who has finally caught the car. So what do I do now? Here it is! Somehow, I have won the prize. But winning by inheriting from someone you love who has passed feels flat, empty, alone. It is a hollow victory, if even that. I must put the cross somewhere that I can see it every day, I think. To remind me of her. Yes, I think so. I'm holding it in my hands, and I am remembering her. I can do that.

Mother, I'll keep your cross, and I'll remember you and Dad, and I'll be reminded of all that you believed in, and what I believe in, too. I'll keep searching for the secret holy words (and even the finger prints, LOL!), and for the magic and the beauty that sing through all things. Especially in the common, everyday things. I know I'll keep finding it; faith tells me it is there. It's not always easy to see unless you look, really, really close. I promise to keep on looking, up close, with the eyes of a child, eager to find the magic.

I need a soundtrack song, and I think this one would please my Methodist mother, so here it is: Chris Rice, with Old Rugged Cross. I've come back to add a second song because I think this one also fits: Dolly Parton, with The Lord Is My Shepherd.

*Now, it has come to my attention that a good many people call themselves Christians these days for an assortment of reasons. Not everyone who says they are, actually is, however. My experience is that if it doesn't walk like a duck and talk like a duck, it might not, in fact, be a duck. If you do not SEE Christ's teachings about love made visible in someone's life and words and actions, folks, they might not be what they say they are! In short, if they're spewing hate and revenge, they might just be fooling. Don't be deceived.