If you haven’t noticed, it’s been a year for rocks. I am thinking of new Pluto photos, Volcano Uku in the Lava song/animation, and the other thumbs-up movie Mr. Holmes. Rocks remind me of Lydia and Pauline, two quiet spinsters
from childhood, who lived unemployed with their families. Perhaps today we would label Lydia and Pauline as having “special needs.”
Lydia had a scarecrow face with pinched eyes, cropped brown hair and a set jaw and mouth. She often dressed in mid-calf, flowery skirts that looked like they came from a Goodwill Store. Sometimes she wore “pedal pushers,” displaying calves shaped like baseball bats. My Uncle Oscar, a school mate of Lydia’s, once asked her what she would like for Christmas. Without hesitation she replied, “a cameo.” Generous Uncle Oscar didn’t scrimp. He purchased the real deal at Johnson’s Jewelry. Aunt Emma said Lydia proudly–and often–wore her cameo to church.
Lydia’s white-haired friend Pauline lived many years with a sickly mother. Pauline, gaunt, tall and always wearing a long dress, liked to hold rocks and carry them around town. If those rocks wore Fitbits they would have broken walking records.
As a middle schooler I once was conscripted along with my church youth group to sing Christmas carols at the home of Pauline and her bedridden mother. The crumbling house smelled of liniment and cabbage. Pauline was holding a rock as
we sang “Silent Night.” In the bedroom was a dresser covered in rocks and its open drawer displayed them too. Rocks were tucked under the bed and along the sideboards. These were not unique specimens in my opinion–just brown and grey chunks. Obviously, Pauline disagreed. She had them sparkling clean and some were rubbed so much they were smooth and shiny.
Pauline and Lydia lived long lives and walked many miles together. Eventually, I believe they resided at the local nursing home. After Pauline died, I once saw a wandering, elderly Lydia carrying a rock. Could one think of a better friendship tribute to Pauline?
I admit to collecting a few rocks. There is the sand and rust-colored flat rock, taken from a North Carolina lake lot. It was there a dear friend told me of her and her husband’s vision to build a home that would be a lighthouse respite for others. It’s a reality now.
Then there is a plain grey stone with my daughter’s name written on it in child’s scrawl. Next to her name is a cross. I just can’t throw this rock away.
A small blue and white rock comes from a North Dakota meadow that I used to walk in. As I turn the stone over, I find it interesting that a rock formed in the depths of the earth mimics the colors of sky and clouds.
I also keep a simple grey rock with Revelation 2:17 and Isaiah 49:15-16 referenced on it. These verses hold promise and encouragement. Here they are quoted below. May their words encourage you, especially when you consider a special mountain or stone:
Isaiah 49:15-16–“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands….”
Revelation 2:17–“He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give this one a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it.”
