My mind frantically sifted through all I had ever done, trying to camp on the right answer to the posed question, listening

God never misses a teachable moment.  And so that we do not forget His  faithfulness, He calls us to remember.  Remember.  The word appears 130 times in the Old Testament and over 35 in the New Testament.  It can be found in 47 verses, 28 chapters and 19 books.  Leviticus and Deuteronomy are replete with admonitions to remember.  When we take Communion, we repeat the command to “do this in remembrance of Me (Jesus).”

What brought you to the Lowcountry? That was the common question asked of members of my community when we moved into our homes

It was almost the end of January and my Christmas tree was still up. The rest of the house had been cleared of Christmas decorations, but the one tree remained, its branches full of meaningful ornaments that brought back decades of fond memories. None of the usual shining Christmas balls, but carefully chosen pieces from shared lives and festive gatherings. There was the butterfly necklace that I wore as a young teen; a wooden turtle to represent those my husband collected before we were married; several Baby’s First Christmas reminders of my 40 year old son’s birth; olive wood carvings from my two trips to Israel; handmade creations by me, my grandchildren and my friend Anita; hollowed sparkling eggs and pasta angels from the days I taught the young in Sunday school; ornaments for each of our pets; family ornaments from celebrations in the years since my grandsons were born; White House ornaments and years of collectible gold ornaments that we bought for a ‘family legacy’ for our young son. Scattered amongst these were angels of various types, especially the beautiful oyster shell creations from the TCOTC Craft Bazaar. And then, there was this resin Christmas tree.

It is a season of giving. Earlier and earlier, the stores and online shopping outlets advertise for “Holiday” gift shopping — Christmas, Chanukah,

I have never been one for keeping a steady, consistent journal. But I am a pack rat, and hesitate to throw away anything that may have meaning some day.

It had been a very hard winter. In the space of about 5 months, I buried my father, had been diagnosed with