May 26, 2024
“When grace is joined with wrinkles, it is adorable. There is unspeakable dawn in happy old age.” (Victor Hugo)
On my bookshelf, I have a picture of my mom in her senior years, her face so happy.
Here is a poem from Ruth Bell Graham about her own mother.
As the portrait is unconscious of the master artist’s touch,
Unaware of growing beauty, unaware of changing much,
So you have not guessed His working
In your life throughout each year,
Have not seen the growing beauty, have not sensed it, Mother dear.
We have seen and marveled greatly of the Master Artist’s skill,
Marveled at the lovely picture, daily growing lovelier still;
Watched His brush strokes change each feature to a likeness of His face,
Till in you we see the Master, feel His presence, glimpse His grace;
Pray the fragrance of His presence, may through you seem doubly sweet
Till your years on earth are ended and the portrait is complete.
