A Child's Prayer

“Hear and bless thy beasts and singing birds, and guard with tenderness small things that have no words.”

This is the child’s prayer that set the wheels spinning. 

Martha was my second mother.  And by second mother, I mean she was really like my other parent, second to my [amazing] biological mom.  She cared for my sister and me while our parents worked from the time I was 6 weeks old.  As I understand it, I was no easy baby. Colicky and hefty, Martha spent an inordinate amount of time rocking and soothing me, singing Home on the Range, and feeding me.  I got over the colic, but not the hunger.  Martha continued to feed me for another ten [okay, 25] years with the most delicious, buttery culinary wonders that no one has ever been able to replicate. We spent our non-eating time coloring, painting, gardening, reading, and watching Guiding Light. I had it made.

Fast forward 26 years later, and Martha developed COPD and her health rapidly declined (I can’t possibly compact a lifetime full of Martha stories into one blog post- that’s provided me with enough content for a few years’ worth of writing). In the last week of her life, we spent our days talking, laughing, crying, and planning a funeral.  There was a quote that she wanted on her headstone, “Dear Father, Hear and bless thy beasts and singing birds, and guard with tenderness small things that have no words.” If ever a single sentence could sum up the essence of an immensely impactful woman, this was it. I spent the following days and weeks after her death dwelling on this prayer- how it encapsulates her spirit, how she inadvertently taught me to love this same way, how I wanted my new daughter to not only understand this concept, but also the woman who taught me.  It inspired a nursery piece I made shortly after I returned to a reality where Martha didn’t exist, but an 18x36 hanging board didn’t seem like enough.  I wanted to create more art (beyond what I had already done for my daughter’s completed nursery), and I wanted to show it to her the same way my 10-year-old self would bring her drawings from art class. 

I started simply; a sweet water color blue bird, a little fuzzy bunny- neither of which I had intentions for, I just wanted to see them on paper.  After a few pushes from friends and family and a sense of lost purpose (and admittedly, an empty wallet), I decided that I could turn this prayer into tangible art to share. ­

http://www.etsy.com/shop/SingingBirdsArt