A Servants heart.

I had a birthday recently and I can't consider my own day without thinking of my parents. Some days I miss them terribly and some, I laugh out loud considering the things either one said or did. Mostly, I am grateful I belonged to them.

As the only girl in a house of brothers, some of my favorite memories are those of my mother and I, off alone on some adventure. Shopping trips to downtown Birmingham were a Saturday pass time from the time I could keep up with my mothers long walking stride. I stayed close on mama's heels as she scoured Burger Phillips, Blachs, Yieldings and Lovemans department stores, taking note of all the best buys. I thought we were only window shopping but it wasn't until I was a older I realized mama was checking prices and comparing. She would come back later and purchase items on sale. She had favorite salespeople everywhere we went and I loved that they knew her by name. [I'm not so sure daddy felt the same]
There were these awesome elevators at Burger Phillips, the cage type with the attendant that wound the door open manually and thanked you for coming to the store. I can still see the doors spring open in the girls dept where Mrs Suddeth [My favorite saleslady] magically had dresses waiting for me to try on. I tried on everything Mrs Suddeth pulled. Then when the price was reduced just enough, she pulled them from the floor and called mama. A couple days later mama came home with a few new dresses for me. Occasionally on our trips there was extra money to eat out. Joy Young or Britlings Cafeteria were my favorites but most often it was off to the park for a picnic lunch.

I remember one of those trips in early summer. I was dressed in a pair of dark blue shorts and a blue gingham checked button up blouse with a peter pan collar and pearly white buttons. White socks in little black T-strap shoes with my toes bumping the ends.
I remember finding the perfect bench and eating lunch together for a mid-day break.  Even back then, when I was very young I knew my mother had a flair for making you feel special, as if you were the only person she could see. I had no idea it was actually a gift from God, a servants heart. Mama had a way of making anyone feel special and she didn't need much to achieve it. That's how it is with gifts you know? God gives us all gifts and all we need do is be a willing participant.

Philippians Chapter 2 says, "Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than themselves. Look not every man on his own things, but every man also in the things of others. Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus."

The night before our adventures mama shucked out ice trays and placed the ice in a large paper grocery bag. You would be amazed how long that ice lasted in that paper bag, in the trunk. The next morning she placed the bag in a metal pail in the trunk of the car, alongside a quart jar full of fresh tea and two jelly glasses. They lay padded with a bath towel that smelled of sunshine, in her woven willow clothes basket. In another paper lunch bag were two sandwiches, two pickle spears, each carefully wrapped in waxed paper. [She also harbored a few Nabisco cookies, hidden away from me for a treat after I ate my sandwich] We sat on a park bench in the shade and talked of dresses, shoes and upcoming trips to Gulf Breeze to see her sister and family. She told me about the surrounding buildings and tales of her childhood and later when she married daddy and they lived in an apartment on the Southside of the city. I believe those lunches and talks did as much for my mother as they did for me. Her hazel eyes sparkled, her auburn hair lilted around her face, as she listened attentively to me share my thoughts. We planned summer days, trips to the beach and wardrobes, talked of flowers outside my bedroom and painting my walls again.My mothers fashion style was very classic. She wore navy blue and crisp white, fitted jackets, blouses with three-quarter length sleeves and slacks she altered by hand, to give her a better fit.
By today's standard mama didn't have much but what she had was carefully chosen quality items she lovingly cared for to make them last for years. Her closet held only a few well chosen dresses for church and I certainly know where my love for shoes came from. I still have the old blue print dress she wore for more than ten years. How is it, six years after her death a dress and pair of slacks still smell like her? I don't know how but it does. Some days I lift the leg of those trousers neatly tucked away in my closet and inhale deeply. For a moment, it's almost like she is here again sharing her sage advice.
Despite all the window shopping, we didn't have much money and mama made her purchases count. I never heard her complain or lament over wearing that old dress each year on Easter Sunday. She washed it by hand in the kitchen sink, hung to dry in the sun and gently pressed it making sure not to snag or damage it.
We sat on the fourth row on the far right in that little country church, my brothers and I, next to mama and daddy. Me in my new dress carefully chosen for fit, ability to alter later and perfectly discounted price. Beside me, my mother in her blue dress with shades of green and golden yellow swirled across the waistline, Bible in her lap, smile on her face, a side eye on her children-always. I do not think anything made mama happier than all of us together on that pew. Today my heart is full with memories of her and her gifts.
In February she would have been 93. Yes, I miss her often but today, I am filled only with thankfulness I was her shopping buddy, friend and daughter.