Ever perfunctorily greet and walk past a stranger at 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning who then yells after you, ‘Hey! What’s the most beautiful thing you’ve seen this morning?”
Stunned, I told the stranger about the adult and adolescent eagles I had seen just 40 minutes earlier. “Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said. “Have a great day!”
Who was that cheerful woman? I wrote about her in my journal, and then forgot about her until two weeks later, when, on January 20, we ran into each other at Eagle’s Nest Bridge at 8 a.m. — a regular stop on my weekend walks.
The first thing I asked her was not her name but, “What is it about you that asks a complete stranger about something beautiful?” “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, “the world could use it, no?”
Her name was Jane, a school nurse, who was due to have a baby in the next 10 days. I had never noticed that she was pregnant. While we were talking, several chevrons of geese flew overhead and I said, “A tribute to Mary Oliver. She died last Thursday.” Jane had never heard of Mary Oliver, so I promised to drop off a copy of Oliver’s poem, “Wild Geese” at her house.
While walking back to our respective homes, Jane shared some of her worries about the pregnancy. Eleven years earlier, she had given stillbirth to a daughter Jane named Penelope Ila Jane Trusnik: “Penelope” who, in Homer’s Odyssey survived in a male dominated world without any magical power, but by her own strength; “Ila” after her grandmother; “Jane” for obvious reasons; and “Trusnick” which was the last name of her first husband. “I wanted my angel child to have a name that blended family and dignity,” Jane said.
“Let me know how this birth goes,” I said. About two weeks later, I left a note, my contact information and several Oliver poems in her mailbox. This past Sunday, I heard my front door mailbox slot open and saw a postcard shoot through. On the front of it was this painting:
I quickly opened the door and discovered Jane walking away. I invited her in and learned that on January 29, she and her second husband had welcomed a baby boy, Raphael, into their lives. But it had not been easy. After they brought him home from the hospital, his body temperature dropped precipitously, and he was rushed back to the hospital where he spent four long days in the NICU. Happily, he’s back home now and check out the light that’s shining from this cutie-patootie:
. . . which brings me to the name of this post, “Little Lighthouses.” Looking at Jane’s postcard, I vaguely remembered a Mary Oliver poem about an owl, so looked it up. Here are a few lines from “White Owl Flies Into and Out of the Field” that perfectly capture the owl, Jane and Raphael — little lighthouses in my world:
and then it rose, gracefully,
and flew back to the frozen marshes
to lurk there, like a little lighthouse,
in the blue shadows—
so I thought:
maybe death isn’t darkness, after all,
but so much light wrapping itself around us—
as soft as feathers—
This post means a lot to me, and I am completely frustrated at the moment that the update for the plug-in I use to notify email subscribers of a new post is having major problems. Plus, it’s Ash Wednesday and I wanted to be in a more peaceful frame of mind. GRRRRR.
A link to the complete Mary Oliver poem referenced in this post, “White Owl Flies Into and Out of the Field”:
https://thevalueofsparrows.com/2016/08/13/poetry-white-owl-flies-into-and-out-of-the-field-by-mary-oliver/
BTW, I have no idea if I will get notifications for new comments, so I’ll check back here periodically. GRRRRR
The photos of Jane and her son were posted on her Facebook page and used with her permission.
Got your notification. Sorry about the disruption. I love this blog post–it is so YOU. You connect, and by your mere presence you bring along art and meaning. You bring images and Spirit, life and love. I celebrate the weave of the entire story. Thanks for telling the story and thanks for being you.
I am relieved that you got a notification via this platform and not just from the separate email I sent out. I also got an email notification that you had commented and that the comment was awaiting approval.
Adrienne did not get a notification via the platform, and I wonder how many others did/did not receive a notification via the platform in either their inbox or spam/junk box. She uses gmail and neither was the notification in her spam box. I have no idea what’s going on. GRRRRR
Okay, the more important point: thank you for commenting on this post which, as I commented earlier, means a lot to me. I do know that I have this unwitting gift of connecting with complete strangers — but seldom do I connect with a stranger who puts the “art” question to me first! Jane’s spirit is infectious. How could you NOT want to know more about someone who just out and out asks you about beauty? xoxo
Another inspiring post, Sharie. I love how you share with us the people you meet, as well as a frog. Jane’s little Raphael is precious. I bet Jane is loved by all the students she helps every day. “Hey! What’s the most beautiful thing you saw this morning?” This morning I’d say it is this post. xoxoxo
Fittingly, you leave a completely beautiful comment, Merrie Lee. Thank you.
I know you shared with me that you got this notification via the platform — and you have a gmail account. GRRRR There’s no rhyme or reason to technology AND seldom any beauty. That being said, beauty often appears with no rhyme or reason, like it did in your comment. xoxo
I did not get the notification, so thank you for the email notice, as I would not have wanted to miss this. Yes, it is YOU who usually asks the startling insightful questions of strangers, so it is divine that Jane not only beat you to it, but that she asked about beauty. It sounds like a question we should each be asking ourselves a few times a day to bring more light into our lives. And Rafael! Look at that hand! I feel he is offering me a blessing … as you have, too, with this post. Sorry about the plugin failure and thanks for persisting to share the beauty in your life.
Beth — GRRRRR. Charlotte does not have a gmail account, but a iCloud account like you and received her notification via the platform, but you did not. This is so vexing. I don’t see a pattern.
Okay, back to what matters: thank you for appreciating this post and getting how unique Jane is. And your comment about the blessing offered by little Raphael’s hand is beautiful in itself. Inspires me to soldier on.
YES, NEVERTHELESS, SHE WILL PERSIST.
I did receive notification of the post–no problems here. Beautiful post, and I’m as intrigued by your first question to Jane as by her first question to you: “What is it about you that asks a complete stranger about something beautiful?” Before you asked her name! You do have a wonderful way of getting to the heart of things. To the heart of people. To the heart of life. Thank you for this gift and for all the little lighthouses in this post.
Thanks for your comment, Carol. I believe you have a gmail account and you got a notification from the platform — others with gmail email accounts did not. As you know, tech glitches just exasperate me.
I love this line in your comment — “for all the little lighthouses in this post.” Thanks for seeing them. xoxo
I echo everyone’s comments. This post is so YOU, and Raphael is so adorable! Little did Jane know that you are an art lover as well.
All around, this post made me smile.