If this visit to Found Baby's musings is your first, welcome! Found Baby writes about her everyday adventures, about how she feels, thinks, and the challenges she faces living in a world so obsessed with beauty and perfection. As she adjusts to life out of the ground, she can't help but recall bits and pieces of her life before she was buried, and those memories are heartbreaking. It might help if you start from her first post back in March 2010, and read backwards to learn the story about how she was found. If you are simply reading the current post, may her story of survival and hope touch at least one of you. She believes there are no coincidences, and you landing on her blog isn't one either.
Welcome, no masks needed...........Found Baby.

Friday, April 2, 2010

The Thing About Crosses

This morning was one of those mornings where I just wanted to lay in bed, close my eyes, and pretend I was in one of those fantasy books that my Angel Face used to read to me. Any one of them would have been better than my reality I think, especially the kind where there was a prince and a princess, and despite being a tad cliche', a happy ending ALWAYS occurred. And on the other hand, I found myself hating the authors of them, because they made me long for something that will never be, and I felt lied to. 


Arly must have picked up on the fact that I was in a foul mood so she quietly turned on some soft jazz music while she fixed breakfast, and I was able to lose myself a bit listening to Ella Fitzgerald and Duke Ellington. At first I didn't know why they made me feel so at ease, but then I remembered back in the day when Angel Face's mom used to listen to her vinyl collection on the record player, and as they sang to her, she would dance with Angel Face standing on her toes, just like she was a big girl. I loved that memory, and it helped snap me out of my ick, or should I say mood, or maybe just the morning fog as Arly says. 

Arly said that she would have to spend some time picking out her clothes for the Easter service on Sunday, so before Baby B had a chance to wake up, I climbed up on Arly's dresser and watched her. I have never seen someone change their mind as often as she did, and for a minute or two, I figured she would end up going in her pajamas because those outfits she picked out were, well let's just say, odd. I think she knew I was getting a kick out of watching her, so she told me I could go and pick out a cross from her collection that she could wear to church. 


As I climbed over to where she keeps her jewelry I quickly realized that wasn't going to be easy because Arly, well she seemed to have a thing for crosses. There were itty bitty crosses, gold and silver crosses, and lots and lots that had iridescent jewels all over them. They were my favorite so I picked out the perfect one, the blue one, which of course matched my face. Arly seemed pleased, so she hung it up for me to get a better look, and when she did, the light from the window hit it just so, and tiny little rainbow flakes seemed to dance across my face. It was simply beautiful. 



As we were getting ready to leave her bedroom another cross unexpectedly caught my eye and I gasped when I saw it. Hanging protectively on the wall, just like on the wall above Angel Face's bed, was the cross with Jesus hanging after he was crucified. I knew about this cross because every night right before Angel Face went to bed she would hold that cross and say this prayer:


Dear Jesus above my bed, 
Another day has ended and I made it safely here, thank you. Hear my prayer for all I love so dear, especially my mommy.  Protect her please, dear God, from harm that may come to her. Forgive me of my sins today, I tried to do much better. And thank you for two eyes to see, two ears to hear, two hands to do your service. May I tomorrow do no wrong and stay away from harm. Bless all my friends and angels who protected me today, may tomorrow be a new day, filled with love, and peace I pray. Amen.  



I quietly walked over to where it was hanging and reached up to touch it, because I thought I just might understand why she loved him so. Angel Face used to tell me the stories of Jesus that she learned from Sunday School down at the church around the corner. Her face would beam with joy as she told me how much he loved her, and that one day he got nailed to that cross so she would go to heaven. That confused me a little bit, but as I looked up at this cross, into his face, I got a strong sense that this must have been the ultimate act of love, and it made me feel really glad that Angel Face was with him.   


Cries from Baby B could be heard coming from the next room so I quickly jumped down and went to let her know she wasn't dreaming either. The look on her face was relief when she saw me. Of course, she didn't say anything, but I knew she remembered me. I told her to wake up and lets go, we had Easter eggs to dye, and you would have thought I offered her a new head of hair or something. What a smile she gave me!


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