Marigold Moon

Yesterday a package arrived from Nova Scotia.  It was just a plain brown box with all sorts of postage information stuck to it.  Who knew that love could come in a plain brown box?  The Goatmother opened the box which, if one could believe the label, was from our friend, Claire of Whispering Acres. Now, before I go any further, let me tell you something about Claire.  This woman is no stranger to adversity.  In the short time since she moved back to Nova Scotia, her life has literally fallen apart and her dreams shattered.  We only thought Mr. Murphy lived at our house.  Claire has been host to Mr. Murphy's evil Godfather.  And yet, this gentlest and kindest of souls, dealt so much, did an unbelievable thing.  Why?  All I can say is remember No. 1 on our list of things learned so far?  Oh, that doesn't even begin to cover it.  Not in a lifetime.

So the Goatmother opened the box and this is what she found:

A beautifully executed needle-felted likeness of none other than myself.  Of course Claire felt the need to point out that the likeness was not as 'perfect' as she would have liked but that my markings are quite challenging to reproduce.  Me?  Challenging?  Au' ContClaire!  Well, I don't know, but I am an expert on *me* and I can tell you that I just don't see a Peanut-loving thing wrong with it.  I mean, I don't know if you can see it, but she even included my exquisite icing-dipped wattles.   Just like real thing!  Methinks the lady too modest.  What do you think?

And that wasn't all.  No indeed.  Do you see that beautiful, beautiful bracelet?  Well that bracelet is hand-made by Claire just for the Goatmother!  It contains not only love, but is "green for renewal and life force, with leaf-shaped beads for new growth, and a central nugget of Howlite, which is a semi-precious stone first found in Nova Scotia!"  Not only made with love, but with a deep and abiding intent.  I can tell you it will look a WHOLE lot better on the Goatmother than that mundane Power Port bracelet.

But that still wasn't all.   That was enough, wasn't it?  Nope.

I hope you can see the card.  It is needle-felted of the most exquisitely beautiful yarn fibers imaginable.  And the water is imbued with iridescent fibers alight with the  sparkling shimmer of tranquility.  It is rife with the Goatmother's favorite colors ... the colors of the vast sea.  How did Claire know?  Perhaps Claire has a little of 'the shining'.

And last, but by no means least.  What?  There's more?  Oh, yes, my friends, there is one more thing - perhaps the most special thing of all.  The poem and the title of this post.  It was written inside the card.

Claire, I can not begin to tell you how many times the Goatmother has cried since she opened that box.  But they aren't tears of sorrow.  They are tears of thankfulness to be so blessed by having people like you in her life.  They are tears of humbleness at the thought of  'who am I to deserve such consideration?'  And they are tears of joy and awe at the sheer goodness and grace in the human soul.  I found a lot of words to make such a meager attempt at conveying something there are no words sufficient to describe.

May the joy, peace, and love that you bring to others, be a blessing coming back to you a thousand fold.  What some chose to foolishly throw aside, will come to be their endless regret.   And to those who knew to look with better eyes, will come a benefit and a gain beyond measure.  Of this I am sure.