Torah Bells, Pencil-Thin Daggers, & Leather-Handled Chocolate Pots
Friday, December 30, 2005
[9:08am] It was the day of Mrs. Sing’s funeral, out in Florissant. And Grandma, (who had just returned from Lake of the Ozarks with the Combs family, Thursday), Mom, Frances, and Linnea would be on an outing for lunch at the Piccadilly Cafe and shopping at the carnival supply store while Carrie-Bri (who had been up studying till six that morning), had shoved off to bed, Joe would be at work after the funeral, and by five Frances would be at a birthday party for Sparrow Creek’s little brother (also in Cub Scouts). Meanwhile, Collette and Rose would accompany Denae and the boys to the Art Museum to see the “Tombs of Ur” exhibit. Odd, doing fun things after a funeral… But such was how life moved on. Even Mercy found herself laughing with friends over coffee hours after her mother’s funeral. There was no victory in death, after all.
Collette now only regretted not being able to accompany Grandma, Mom, and the kids. She looked forward to a quiet evening, maybe over at Mom’s and Dad’s watching a movie over pizza. But most likely there were other things in store. Yet there was no use in complaining – what would it do? and why do it anyway? Hadn’t she been blessed worlds beyond what she deserved as it already stood?
[16:38pm] Collette was encouraged by the minister’s officiation at the funeral, following the Sing boys sharing some brief memories of their mom, along with the older son’s wife and the younger son’s girlfriend. Also present were Mr. and Mrs. Orange and Justus, the entire West family and Silverspoon family, the Souths (minus Relevance and Kitts), and several of the Ernies.
Afterwards, the Souths sent over a box of goodies from Relevance and Kitts for both Silverspoon families, including a basket of rice-crispie treats and chocolate chip cookies and a mug of agate green and brown pottery.
“Looks like it just came from that Lord of the Rings tavern, a Hobit mug or something. What was that place? The “Prancing Pony,” Denae observed, when thanking Kitts over the phone.
Apparently Kitts had thought the exact same thing upon purchasing them.
And the Art Museum revealed not tombs of Ur to them that day (as the line was two and a half miles long), but instead – mummies of Egypt and portraits, swords, and armor. Collette could not help but think as she looked at the mummified bodies – that their souls likely ran in hell at that very moment. But she did not wish to think on such things long – that was for God to decide, and not herself. And, surprisingly, the artwork of the mummies was not as impressive as she had once thought it – it was actually rather crude, she thought. No longer was it fantastic. The pitch and gold was uneven and not smooth, the colors rough and ragged along the edges.
“It’s interesting,” Denae said quietly, as they looked at a pre-Columbian clay sculpture of a tribal dance, “looking at all of this from the perspective of the Scriptures and how God’s hand is seen through all parts of history, in all cultures…”
Collette’s thoughts precisely…
In glass cases everywhere – there were bells for the hailing of the Torah in the synagogue, a water glass with three layers of dimensional colored landscape (with bits of paper and natural stuffs used as material for ships, grassy banks, plants, animals, etc.), a pencil-thin dagger (or medieval letter opener, in Curly’s opinion), a silver chocolate pot with a leather handle, a portrait of two babies in white gowns (one with a normal baby-smile, and the other looking as though it were 90, as Curly pointed out)… Monets, Van Goghs, Cessants, Gaugins, Renoirs, and a white sculpture of a youngster striking out on foot, with the folds of her robe rippling around her as though the marble had been captured about her as she ran. No Vermeers, though, which would most likely be her favorites.
Collette was sad that day, thinking about many things, and all the kids. They cared little how they were all intertwined as brothers and sisters in Christ. They were (mostly all) wrapped in their own little worlds, thinking only of the girls or boys they liked, their music and art, their inspirations and emotions. Of course, Collette could include herself under this label. But it made her sad to think that she cared more that Joe and Wally and Curly remain good friends the rest of their days on earth and become spiritual encouragements to one another, and that Rose was finally treated with respect (and not purely ignored) by her fellow male peers (as were all her other female friends of equal age)… more than they cared. To them, most of what they experienced with other people, were mere passing assets for the time, unintentional stepping stones to the next phase of life… Again, how could she judge their hearts? But it brought a sadness upon her to see the kids so carelessly throw themselves to whatever wind might pass, forgetting each other in the great pilgrimage to the Celestial City.
Collette loved the selected passage which the minister read that morning from I Thessalonians 4:13-18:
“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of the archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words.”
Words of grace, and all beyond comprehension…