Story

I see it in my mind. The image is saved in that special place where our treasures are stored. I can pull up the memory with little or no effort. When I am lonely or sad or in need of a friend, the memory is there.

The image is of an old woman, her white wispy hair pulled up in a bun. The younger woman barely an adult. They sit together over a cup of tea, always served in a china cup. The older woman shares her memories. Tells her stories. The young woman soaks in every word she can. She knows her Grandma won’t be with her forever.

The Grandma uses her stories to guide. But it’s deeper than that. The young woman doesn’t see her Grandma as a teacher, but as an ignition. She is braver, stronger and more determined because she absorbs her Grandmother’s story. The old woman tells of her triumphs and achievements. The young woman thinks, “She succeeded, so can I.” The old woman tells humorous tales. The young woman thinks, “I can also find the humour in life.” She tells of perseverance and trials. The young woman grabs onto her example and holds it tight for the future, when she will need it more than she ever imagines.

The old woman’s stories are like a lantern, guiding the young woman through her life. Her faith and Godliness a standard that the younger woman will work to emulate.

Our stories are alive. Live them. Share them.

Proverbs 31: 26 She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.