There’s a City of Light…

My late dear grandma known fondly by many as “Grossmommy”  left behind her a legacy of singing remembered by all who ever knew her. She would sing from sun up to sun down praising her Maker from her heart even though she sometimes went off key or couldn’t remember the words. I remember many times when I would hear her singing how she would sing phrase by phrase with long pauses in-between. Everyone loved her singing and it brightened many a day for others and I’m sure for herself too as one cannot be a depressed singer when the song is for Jesus.

I have always wanted to be like my dear Grossmommy; leaving a rich legacy which is treasured with deep nostalgia by every single one of her children and grandchildren. One thing especially I want is for my children to have a mother who sings like Grossmommy used to.

When Veronika came to me a year ago I did kangaroo care with her which means carrying her skin to skin inside my shirt right next to my heart and I started to sing to her. Constantly as I was working I would be reminded to sing when I felt the soft flutter of her tiny body against me. Since she didn’t get to know my voice in the womb and since I knew she probably had already heard far too many harsh, unkind words I wanted her to know my voice as gentle and safe and what better way than to sing to her about Jesus. One of the songs I have sung to her literally hundreds of times is the well loved hymn, There’s a City of Light. Over and over I sang it to her as she grew and grew… and I’m still singing it to her.

I never stopped to wonder why that was the one hymn that always came first to my mind and heart when I opened  my mouth to sing. After several months of singing it to her I was paging through our family cookbook one day fondly reading different things that brought back memories when I came across something my Aunt Kate had written about her mother, Grossmommy.

QUOTE: This is one of the first memories that I have, that I have never forgotten. Mother ( Grossmommy ) was outside. I was just a little girl yet, upstairs in bed on a summer evening. She was singing, “There’s a city of light, ’mid the stars we are told…” and I remember how the song came floating over the hill and through the open window… UNQUOTE

It struck me to think that, that old, old hymn was so weaved into who I am since my earliest existence. I never remember consciously learning  and memorizing it like I have done with many others. It was so special to me to think here I was in Haiti where I often feel totally separated from my family unknowingly weaving my tiny daughter's  life into the same fabric… And I continue weaving…