September 24

Around the 24th of the month, I go into a bit of a melancholy mood. Today is no different. I wasn't picking up on it right away, and then it came to me a few months ago. It was March 24 that we lost our precious Margot June. Six months ago now.

One of the things I was looking forward to was to add Margot's picture to the photo display of grandchildren on my kitchen windows. Three are in Pier One frames that I got around the Christmas season several years ago. At the time, I only had three grands - Evee, Stella and Miles. The frame was meant to be a tree ornament, but my intent was to use it year around for this very purpose. The window pulls in our Budapest flat serve as a perfect place to hang the pictures. Now that I can no longer get the small frames, I purchased small round frames with a suction cup on the back to mount new additions - Iris and Margot - to the window display.

Even after Margot's death, I still wanted to add her picture. It's the only thing I have to remember her by. I purposely suctioned the frame near Stella's picture. Sisters.

Before we moved to Budapest, I bought a beaded tropical bird napkin ring (Pier One again :) that reminded me of a hummingbird. I only purchased one, not planning to use it as a napkin holder, but thinking I would find a place for it somewhere. I just liked it. I'm fascinated by hummingbirds. Love to watch them flit in and out of flowers, drinking in the sweet nectar.

Well, I've had it stored in my desk drawer all this time, because I hadn't found that special place. As soon as I put Margot's picture up, I thought of the hummingbird. The ring fit perfectly around the suction cup, and there the little bird stayed.

It seemed so fitting for Margot. The smallest of birds, feathers shimmering like that of a prism. Each little twist and turn producing iridescent colors in the sunlight. Flirting with flowers, they're here and gone, only to return again with the flutter of their wings humming in mid-air. Did you know they are the only group of birds that can fly backwards?

Tiny. Beautiful. Fascinating. It just seemed to be the perfect place... next to Margot's picture. I like to think of Margot flitting in and out of our lives. She flits in when I see a six-month old baby. She flutters about when I'm skyping with Stella. She dashes about when I think of our family spread across the world. The humming of her wings will always be a reminder of our sweet little Margot. I miss her.

Wings... see Josh's recent post on Stella's wings.

Stefanie & Ramona

Ramona and Stefanie

It was in July that I received an email from my sweet friend, Kathrin, who I wrote about on my blog three posts back. Her daughter, Stefanie, and friend, Ramona were backpacking for three weeks across Eastern Europe. They would be staying in hostels, but she wondered if they could stay with Dennis and I when they came to Hungary, one of the ten countries they were planning to visit.

The dates coincided with non-travel days for us. Of course, we would be delighted to host them in our home. And what a delight these twenty-something Swiss women were. Ramona's husband gave his blessing to a three-week separation since he was focusing on writing his thesis. Stefanie, an adventurer at heart, was set on seeing Eastern Europe by backpack and train before she headed to the states to work with inner-city children in New York City over the fall/winter months.

Taking them around our grand city of Budapest was a joy and a gift to me. I love the twenty-something age. Perhaps it's because I see the 20's as pivotal in my own life. Choices made in the 20's often determine the trajectory of life. So, it was a breath of fresh air to hang out with Ramona and Stefanie.

A grace-filled gift of summer 2011.

Sweeter Than Honey

In my last post I shared about my new Hungarian friend, Gyöngyvér, who was preparing for a lecture in her area of expertise, but needed to brush up on her English since the lecture was to be given in English. She was so grateful for my assistance that she kept finding ways to "pay" me.

One day when I arrived at her 4th story flat a bit earlier then the scheduled time, she greeted me at the door and then apologized that she had to leave for a few minutes to run down to the ground floor to meet someone she was expecting at the front gate.

She returned with a brown paper bag, and then with a big smile on her face, pulled out a big container filled with honey.

"This is for you!"

I took it and held it up to see honey so light and clear that I could practically see right through it. I gave her a big hug, thanking her for her thoughtfulness. She explained that the man she met at the door is from the countryside where he extracts honey from his hives. She had him deliver it that morning especially for me. She proceeded to tell me that Hungarian honey is some of the best around, especially when it comes straight from the countryside. "So pure and sweet."

I couldn't help but think what this gift meant to me. There are two places where the Psalmist speaks of honey in relationship to God's Word. When Gyöngyvér gave me the honey, I was instantly reminded of these two passages. 

From a portion of Psalm 19:
 The instructions of the Lord are perfect,
      reviving the soul.
   The decrees of the Lord are trustworthy,
      making wise the simple.
 The commandments of the Lord are right,
      bringing joy to the heart.
   The commands of the Lord are clear,
      giving insight for living.
 Reverence for the Lord is pure,
      lasting forever.
   The laws of the Lord are true;
      each one is fair.
 They are more desirable than gold,
      even the finest gold.
   They are sweeter than honey,
      even honey dripping from the comb.

And, Psalm 119:103:

How sweet your words taste to me;
      they are sweeter than honey. 

Like the bowl full of cherries that Gyöngyvér had given me just the week before, God was giving me gifts from nature that reminded me of His nature. What beautiful images of His love and grace. A reminder that the winter season does come to an end, that the leaves bud and the fruit blossoms, that the bees return to collect the nectar, and that He makes all things new once again.

Gyöngyvér's gift of honey was yet another grace-filled gift of summer 2011.

Side note: Did you know that honey naturally resists molds, fungi, and other bacteria, allowing it to last for years without refrigeration? :)