A MUSTARD SEED ... AND MORE

As many of my friends can testify, chemo brain is a real thing, so here are insights that I’d forgotten to share, which came to mind just before I fell asleep, last night, concerning one of two book clubs, both of which I enjoy membership.  The women who comprise the book club, referenced in today’s post, number ten, and all of them are neighborhood friends.  Every December, it’s been my pleasure to choose the restaurant, where my imagination decorates a festive table for our holiday party to which we bring unwrapped gifts (which Ravi and I and anyone who wants to join us deliver to our local fire station where Toys For Tots are collected, gift wrapped and eventually dispersed.  And along with these gifts for children, Ravi and I surprise the firemen with a chocolate cake, decorated with yellow roses as well as these words:  THANK YOU FOR KEEPING US SAFE THROUGHOUT THE YEAR.  This year, in hopes that I could attend, my friends postponed our luncheon to January; however, being in hibernation until my white blood cell count rises, I could not attend, and since the festive occasion took place earlier, this week, here are the sentiments that I emailed to each of my nine neighbors, all dear friends, after they chose to honor my spirit’s presence at the table, last Wednesday: 

My dear friends, First of all—whether the mustard seed parable is taken from my ancestors’ bible, The Old Testament, or quoted from The New Testament, the insight below rings so true that I want to thank you, Martha, for gifting me with a precious mustard seed, which I plan to keep close to my heart so as to honor its meaning with the utmost of care—

For truly, I say to you, if you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move; and nothing will be impossible to you."

Just as the tiny mustard seed grows into a strong healthy tree, I actually have a tree that I call ‘My Tree’ which I’ve cherished since childhood as its majestic presence inspires me, to this very day, to honor its deeply rooted, magnificent strengths, which, over these past 76 years, have continued to do much more than survive the windy city’s fiercest storms while shielding my family’s home under the gorgeous leafy expanse of its umbrella, to which photos cannot do justice without the use of a panoramic lens, because, each time I feel inspired to pay a visit to my tree, I stand before it, marveling, anew, at the circumference of its trunk, which, upon rising ever so high into the sky, branches out so spaciously as to cover the entire corner lot upon which my father built his dream house circa 1953 at which time My Tree had seemed fully grown, so tall and awe-inspiring had been its breadth and height, way back then, so as to have seemed as biblical in nature as was The Tree of Life to ten year old me.  And if, one day, I come across a photo of My Tree, I’ll send it forth, so you can see the ease with which its natural majesty miniaturized my family’s solidly constructed, red brick, two story, four bedroom home.  And thus do we come to see why the self-empowered, lasting presence of My Tree has become synonymous with the on-going development of my strong sense of personal safety, over most of my life. 

And so, my dear friend, Martha, your gift of the tiny mustard seed speaks to my inner strengths more personally than you could have known unless I opened my heart to reveal a vulnerable child, whose intuition somehow knew, straight from the getgo that magnificent trees, which had once been held in hand as tiny seeds, have lessons to gift to small fry with open minds, eager to embrace countless reasons to offer love so naturally and unconditionally as to nurture compassion as being the eleventh commandment, which never made it down the mountain based in Mel Brooks having dropped the third tablet, as seen in The History of the World Part I

As to planting seeds, I remember joining my father, who, smiling, on his knees, handed me seeds, which, upon being gently placed beneath fertile soil, grew into a garden of colorful blooms so beautifully arranged as to have rivaled any award winning floral display, around, and that rainbow-colored memory leads me toward thanking Gail for creating this year’s holiday table arrangement so beautifully that words could not do justice to Suzie’s photo, which truly delighted my spirit‘s sense of nature’s bounty on display.

And then, we come to the place that you set so lovingly for me, while inspirational quotes (each of which I’d love to read) were recited round the table by friends, who I miss dearly, and having read the timely and meaningful message contained within the rainbow card (which was signed by all with such heartfelt sentiment that I couldn’t help but feel so deeply loved as to tear up), so grateful do I feel to have you all, close by, that in answer to the question, which each of you has asked so sincerely—what can I do to ease your way—once my recovery, post surgery, gets underway, Will may deeply appreciate any nutritious meals that ring our bell so as to offer my sweetheart sound reason to relax after taking tender care of me, day after day, week after week, month after month ...

And now, having spoken straight from my heart, I hope you all feel as deeply loved by me as your love has been clearly conveyed in every one of your replies, which inspires my spirit to smile in response to each update that continues to connects me so meaningfully to beloved family and treasured friends. Plain and simple ... I love each of you more deeply than words can clearly express, so thank goodness for emojis

❤️💖💜❣️💕💘💞💝💓💗🙋🏻‍♀️Annie