Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. ~Matthew 6:19-20
I love receiving greeting cards of all kinds, no matter what the occasion. And certainly, I so appreciate all the sympathy cards that come our way after Mom's passing. They are still on display, and will be for several more weeks. After that? Well, as I do with Christmas cards once Epiphany begins, I recycle them.
Honestly, I simply don't like clutter. And if I saved each and every card I ever got, where in the world would I store them? Would I ever dig them out to read them all over again? The short answer is "no." So, out they go.
With the exception of cards from my husband, Danny, none are retained. That is until I receive this Christmas greeting last December from my mother.
This arrives before vaccinations against Covid are available, and we haven't been able to spend time in person for months, with the few exceptions of keeping our physical distance from Mom when we go to her house to deliver a load of frozen meals that Danny has lovingly prepared for her. I'm sure many of you suffered the same frustration in not being able to see your loved ones during the pandemic.
This is what Mom writes inside:
May we all celebrate soon . . .
That phrase strikes a chord deep within me. I hold the card tightly, reading this brief but poignant sentence over and over.
Then a startling, unwelcome realization hits. This might be the last Christmas card we ever see from Mom. I don't want to think it, or believe it, but instinctively, I know this to be true. It has become more and more evident that she is slipping, physically and cognitively. I have to face the probability that my intuition is correct.
Sadly, it is.
But from the moment I read this card, I know it's a keeper. It now serves as a bookmark in my current daily devotional. Always accessible, always available to read and reread as the years roll on.
May peace be our gift . . .
Mom, you have received that gift in full.