The day here was cold, cloudy, blustery, a typical January day. I was looking forward to having time in the Pond Place to warm up, inside and out. Penny shook herself, to warm up(?), and ran to the door. Out we went, but only had a few steps into the warm energizing air. She shook again, not sure just why, and then trotted down the path looking for her friends. 

I was content for the moment to just be. I realized that winter days made me feel lonely, missing my Mom. Growing up in Seattle, we had lots of cold, cloudy days. Home, especially the kitchen, was warm and cozy and coming in was a pleasure. The kitchen had cooking smells, Mom usually wearing an apron over her housedress, while she made dinner. I would sit at the breakfast table and do homework while having the customary milk and cookies or graham crackers. Warm comforting memories. I felt sad and teary but looked up to see Penny being welcomed by Ellie and Geri, with Kermit hopping around. I smiled and walked toward them. I wondered where the rest of the Troupe was, and Jesus, but I have learned to wait.

The two new friends from the Plain turned toward the Meadow, so I followed. Penny was making her happy noises as she ran ahead. She suddenly stopped, dead in her tracks, looking around and crying a little. I caught up to her, puzzled but not alarmed. Ellie and Geri moved on into the Meadow and walked toward the stream. 

The first new surprise was the sounds. Buzzing, whirling, clicking, ticking filled the air. Bee and bug sounds. The trees surrounding the area were alive with insects. The grass was moving with them. The air was filled with them. How were we to go into the Meadow with the air clogged with these critters. I watched Ellie and Geri move and could see that the insects made a path for them. I picked up Penny, “let’s go, kiddo.”

I slowly walked to the stream and the rocks, careful where I stepped and aware of my breathing. But no problem. Now why this? I sat down with my back to the rocks, put Penny down to see what would happen next. She stayed with me for a bit then a hopping something caught her eye, and she hopped after it. “No eating the bugs,” I directed. She plays with them at home, and then eats them. Kermit was on the ground hopping after one and then another. The “Girls” as I think of them were by the stream, watching. 

I looked down and saw beetles, lots, and lots of beetles. Makes sense, as they are the most plenteous of the insects. Thousands of different kinds. I recognized my favorite, the Ladybug, and I remembered the legend of the Ladybug. According to European folklore, ladybugs symbolize good luck. Many years ago, aphids invaded farmer’s grapevines. When the farmers prayed for help to the Virgin Mary, legend states that swarms of little red beetles appeared. They proceeded to eat the aphids and save the crops. The farmers named the beetles Ladybugs in honor of Mary, Our Lady. 

There were many of these ladybugs crawling around me competing with all the others I could not name. Colorful, no two seemed the same. I thought of dung beetles, but it suddenly dawned on me that I had not seen any poop or dung when I have been out among the animals. The grasses were clean. I had not seen any animal eating either. Hum. And I never got hungry when I am here. I was given food only once when I came to understand the Meadow as green pastures. I also never got thirsty or needed any “facilities.” This was an amazing place.  

I looked up into the trees. I saw a praying mantis; a strange disjointed little green bug. Loved watching them walk. All knees and elbows. There were caterpillars, centipedes, millipedes, and more beetles. The trees moved with all of them. The humming and clicking and clacking made a music all it’s own. I am learning that His creation is full of music. Then I saw the bees.

Now, I am not fond of bees. I am grateful for honeybees because I like honey and we need them to have all the tree fruit and nuts. But. When I was about four, we lived in Jacksonville Florida. There were hedges growing around the telephone poles, laurel I would assume now. Somebody into tall box shapes trimmed them. They looked nice strung out along the street edge. The neighbor boy, older than I, thought it would be fun the whack the hedges with sticks. So, I did it too. Only where I whacked was a wasp’s nest. They did not like getting whacked and let us know that. He could run faster than I could, so I got stung badly on my face. I have not liked bees, wasps, yellow jackets, or hornets ever since. Now here they were. I just watched them, and they did not come near me. I was grateful.

The droning, humming of the insects made a music that was soothing. The warm of the air, the sunshine, made me drowsy. I fell asleep, Penny curled up next to me and the girls went down on the grass resting also. Lovely.  

Penny stirred next to me, waking me. She was on her feet, alert. The girls were up also. Hum, what’s next? Across from me, the underbrush rustled, and then parted. Aslan and Bear stepped out accompanying a slight figure. Not Jesus, so who could it be? As they came closer, I identified a woman, and then it was clear. “Mother Mary,” I cried out as I got to my feet. 

“Sit back down, dear, I am coming to you.” She came and sat next to me with her back against the rocks. “I come here often, and this time I get to visit with you.” 

I was too stunned to be polite. Penny however, had no reticence, but quickly jumped in her lap, paws on her chest to give lick and sniffs. Mary laughed, delighted, and snuggled Penny back. Friends forever now. The girls came and gave their hellos. Ellie used her truck to explore and caress, whereas Geri leaned down and put her head gently on her shoulder. Even Kermit arrived, hopping up on her lap. Bear and Aslan ambled over to sit in the circle.

“Mother Mary,” I stammered. 

“Just Mary my dear, I am his mother only. I understand that your mother was called Mary also. As are you and many of the women in your family. It is a very good name, I think,” she said with a grin that put me at ease.

“You are missing your mother Mary today.”

The tears began to fall as I nodded yes. 

“That’s why I could come. To bring you comfort. Come here and let me hold you for a spell.”

I shifted and lay across her lap, Kermit jumping off in time so as not to be squashed. She put her arms around me, and I rested my head on her shoulder. I stayed that way for some time with the tears gently falling. We talked, or rather I listened as she told me about my mother and how she had loved Mary’s son. She told me little stories that only she could have known. Of how Mom had read the Bible, loved her mother Mary and my father. Of how glad she was to have a daughter named Mary, and that she was proud of me. And even a granddaughter named Mary.

Mary’s words were healing for me. They soothed a rough, hard ouchy place in me. I was so grateful. Resting in her arms was an experience that brought back very dim memories. I had forgotten how much I miss hugs, touches, and caresses. 

Then she surprised me with, “you worry too much about too much stuff you can’t do anything about. You have to practice more, practice letting stuff go, letting it be what it is and what it will be. Let it be child, and let my Son take care of it all. He knows how, he has the plan, remember?”

I sat up and looked at her, “yes, you are right. I forget when there is so much stuff in my life and so much more seems to come all the time. I get all wrapped up with it and don’t know what to do and what not to do.”

“Perhaps a good rule of thumb would be to ask yourself, just stop and stand still and ask yourself, Mary Anne, can I do anything about this? Do I have any power to do anything to change this? Is this mine to do? If the answers are no, then let it go, just let it be what it will be.”

“Wise words, Mary.”

She chuckled, “yes, I have been known to have a few wise words.”

We were sitting looking at each other, sitting like two women at a quilting bee, or having tea, when Penny gave her most welcoming woof, and jumped up. I caught a glimpse of Mary’s face, as she looked up, radiant. He had come.

“I thought you could use some help from my Mother in your lonely time.” Jesus said.

“Yes, you are right, I am so so glad that you know my thoughts and heart. That you anticipate what I need before I am even aware. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome, my dear” as she patted my knee. 

We all got to our feet. I went to him for my hug. I put my forehead on his chest and quietly said, “thank you, thank you,” over and over again because I did not know what else to say.

He lifted my face up, saying, “your thank yous are a form of praise and worship. You are welcome. I love you child.” He kissed my forehead and turned to give his mother his arm. They walked off together.

The Troupe escorted Penny and me out, and off we went into the cold, cloudy, blustery day. But I hardly noticed.