Two black gowns sit waiting to be pressed and worn later
this month. Next to them sit two black caps waiting to experience the next step
my girls take.
I have seen these girls wear many hats in their 22 years
with me. First as my babes they wore knitted premi hats that would cover their
eyes if we pulled them down tight. So beautiful and perfect and at the same
time so fragile and new. By the grace of
God they were born and by the His almighty power they came home from that
hospital on two different days. One weighing
not much over four pounds and the other just shy of that mark. Those days taught me what it means to humble.
Even though I was delivered these two little precious lives, they were not mine
at all. They were His and He trusted me with them. To this day I have never
gotten over that feeling of amazement. He gave them to me.
I remember knitted purple and black hats belonging to Mr.
and Mrs. Snowmen in my mom’s curio cabinet. When gram or I cleaned (or maybe we
were just playing) we would open the cabinet and play all the wonderful music
boxes and the girls would wear the hats of snowmen. Music surrounded us. From
my own grandmother singing any chorus that came to mind at any given moment to
my mother who would add hand gestures and dances to her melody and even I had
my favorites to serenade my girls with. We would sit for hours to be charmed by
the sweet sounds from the music boxes not knowing that they would be blessing
me with their sweet sounds for the rest of my life.
I remember the yellow hat from Mary the dog, the purple hat
with a bent flower and the skunk hat from an old dance costume. Almost every
day after work from the ages of two to four I could come home to see them dressed
in hideous outfits and wearing these crazy hats twirling around like princesses.
They would eat, play, sleep, go to Wegmans and even the mall in their fine
attire and magnificent hats. The best of friends they were and still are.
I remember the homemade silver crowns that adorned their
darling heads as they walked on stage for their debut as Frost Guards at 6
years old in the play “Adventures of the Frost Fairies”. Kathleen beamed with
great confidence and ease. Kristina glowed with considerable poise and
accuracy. I do remember stating, like any proud mamma, they were born to be on
stage. That was the first of many magnificent performances my girls have been a
part of and in some ways it holds the most precious memories since The Frost
Fairies was the only performance my grandmother lived to watch.
I remember the gold graduation caps that I pinned to their
heads to mark the end of eighth grade. I may have been a single mom but our
girls were loved and supported by many. Our unique extended family of the
modern century filled two rows. With four sets of grandparents including
biological, adopted and step grandparents; two sets of parents; siblings
including half and step sibling; cousins and aunts and uncles of all sorts. For
the first time in twelve years this whole family was here for two reasons:
Kristina and Kathleen. Yes, I was blessed to have God’s forgiveness and to have
Him protect my girls from all my mistakes. I was again humbled by His mighty
power and I realized He did not trust me with these girls. He gave them to me
so I could trust in Him.
There were many hats during our girls’ future performances
included the Cat in the Hat, Wizard of Oz, Annie, The Odd Couple, High Society,
The Curious Savage, Once Upon a Mattress, All Because of Agatha and, finally
our favorite, Nunsence The Mega Musical.
During those years, many days and evenings were spent tuning their
instruments (their voice) for
concerts, competitions and auditions.
There is a never ending supply of healing teas and soothing throat
sprays in the kitchen cabinet. I remember feeling so fortunate to just sit
back and listen and enjoy all the years of their hard work. I am blessed beyond words to watch my girls use
their gifts for more than entertainment or self advancement. How many times can
I use the word blessed? There is no other word for what I feel as I am soak in
the beauty of my own child worshiping our Father in Heaven and allowing Him to
use their gift to bless others.
Dressed in blue graduation caps and gowns our girls walked
across the stage to receive their high school diploma. I remember noticing what
a difference four years made. I sat with my mom on one side, my husband on the other
and Max next to his dad. This was the hardest
hat they had to wear after my father died. How amazingly God came through for us that day.
My dad was the smartest man in the world
according to his grandbabies. He was the man who was going to walk them down
the aisle. Dad was far from righteous
but in the end he still sought who God was and what God’s will was for His life
Again the lesson was as simple as trust.
Through all the hats I have seen my girls wear, I am most anticipating
the one they will wear this month. This black cap symbolizes the fruits of all
their commitment and effort. It is a reminder of the lessons and influences of
their professors and teachers, both good and bad; of the friendships they have
built and those they have lost and the lessons God has taught them on the way. I
have been so blessed to watch my beautiful, gifted daughters learn to trust in
God. More importantly I am blessed because
this is only the beginning.
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