At a function recently someone asked me, “Where are you from?” I answered in the usual way, giving the name of my hometown, but I secretly wanted to reply:
“I am from a song that was begun long, long ages ago,
breath and vibrations and imagination.
I am from where snow begins,
high in the sky, falling silently.
I am from a bird’s song
resonating from high atop an ancient oak tree.
I am from a chant sung by a Native American fore-mother.
I am from lullabies hummed by ancestors from across the ocean.
I am from my grandmother’s homemade biscuits, butter, and jelly.
I am from the back of a horse, saddled for me before breakfast by my grandfather.
I am from peaches and pecans from the trees in her yard and creamy,
Rich fudge from my grandmother’s stove.
I am from sitting on my grandfather’s knee and singing songs together on a road trip
halfway across the state of Texas.
I am from coastal sunshine, salt spray, and fish caught with my daddy.
I am from clothes beautifully crafted by my mom.
I am from sailing adventures with my brother.
I am from climbing trees and giggles with my little sister.
I am from games and cousins, and Christmas trees and camping,
and books and hymns.
I am from a place that, when I was 11 years old, was devastated by a hurricane
and resurrected by determination, faith, and countless helping hands.
I am from women and men who lived with Jesus
and taught others, who taught others, who taught others,
who taught my Sunday School teachers.
I am from many places, far from here.”
“And where are you from?”
Peace, Blessings, and Joy
2 thoughts on “An offering from Bev: Where are you from?”