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| The pink rose expresses gratitude |
Cindy
is a Royal Oak friend. We’re fellow members of Detroit Working Writers and have
served several years together on the Board of Directors.
She’s the kind who will lose sleep to find ways to encourage her
husband, children, and friends.
Cindy’s a Giver, the unofficial title for folk who gather in board
meetings on behalf of someone else’s benefit. And she’s prepared with her report.
I stepped close to Cindy’s administrative skills a few years back
when she tutored me in her system of vetting new membership applications. Her laughter
and wit infused every link of the process. I’ve never seen such a fluent
flowchart.
That day, when I first parked in front of her house, three white
pillars welcomed me. Her porch offered a bench for reflection and conversation.
I could live here, I thought. I would sit, read, write and wave to
neighbors.
My, my, what I found inside her office—furniture, files, and her New
Membership folder in amiable order. From start to finish, in simple terms,
Cindy explained and demonstrated the correlation between the folder’s detailed
instructions and her computer documents.
Genius.
She placed her masterpiece, thumb drive included, into my hands. “Would you like a cup of tea before you go?”
“Please.” I spied an upright piano. “Do you play?”
“A little.”
At my prodding, she slid onto the bench and ran her fingers over the
keys in a sweet tune I cannot remember. Another talent.
Cindy introduced me to her youngest son. “He’s part of a local band,
and has composed some pretty nice pieces.”
The young man obliged our request to play one of his favorites. I
heard the harmony I felt without and within their home. He played with beautiful
longing and revived memory of that vulnerable season in my youth, and my
daughters’.
That holy moment lingers and calls order out of chaos, inspires hope
and courage whenever I am vulnerable. The life cycle begins and ends in
dependency upon someone to love, defend, and care for us.
In our productive middle, we build and rebuild our internal and
external house. We write and revise. Sow and reap. Lose and gain.
The other day in a business email, Cindy summed up our present season.
“On a totally different topic, a lot of my seedlings are emerging! Such fun.
I've planted small and large sunflowers, string-less green beans and cucumbers.
Not as big as your farm, but for this city girl, this is a scale of ‘farming’ I
can handle.”
Well, dear Reader, most of my greasy and Turkey Craw beans aren’t
sprouting. Could be the drought. I’ll plant more seeds and water this week if
seedlings don’t appear. A Southerner must have her beans cooked with onions in
bacon grease.
And yes, it is fun to have a city girl friend who knows what scale
to farm. I can’t wait to see how she’s designed her rows of sunflowers, beans,
and cucumbers.
Perhaps she’ll play her sweet little tune again.
