The
Joy of a Lilac
I have wonderful
neighbors who have planted Lilacs in their yards. I also have a pale lavender colored bush in
the corner of my yard. But the old bush
in my back neighbor’s yard is something to see.
It must be at least 20 feet tall and spreads out like a deep purple
carpet for all to enjoy.
The other day as I was
trimming the verge out by the back fence I plucked a few low hanging clusters
that were clearly wanting to come inside.
I put them in a vase and set them on the patio table to “debug” while I continued
my work. As I sat enjoying my afternoon
break and cool water, the wonderful scent of those deep purple flowers gently
took me back to a memory of many years ago.
When I was much younger
than I am today, the primary children would gather during the week and learn of
the Savior and his teachings. We would sing songs to reinforce these teachings
and other pleasing things, like the earth.
One of my very favorite
memories of “Singing Time” is the day we learned the beautiful song “My Heavenly Father Loves Me” By Clara W.
McMaster. Our enthusiastic Music Leader,
Lavinda Oppie had brought in the biggest bunch of these dark purple flowers I
had ever seen. I am sure we had some around
our house but this was the first time I remember seeing them in a huge vase, displayed
like real flowers.
How delightful they
smelled, how gorgeous they looked all tucked into that vase. What an impact they made on me.
“Whenever I hear the
Song of a bird or look at the blue, blue sky, Whenever I feel the rain on my
face or the wind as it rushes by, Whenever I touch a velvet rose or walk by our
lilac tree, I’m glad that I live in this beautiful world Heavenly Father
created for me.”
I love hearing Lavinda’s
beautiful voice singing those words over and over as we learned this song. She had a picture of a red bird and the blue
sky. She had a single red rose, and
those Lilacs. She was a master music
teacher, and I know that she was one of many who fostered my love of music.
Some things in our
brains are inseparably connected. Smell
remains one of the greatest triggers for memory we have. Every spring when they bloom, the pungent
fragrance of those lilacs brings back so many happy memories of the Music of my
Youth, Lavinda Oppie taught me so many songs about Love and our Savior, and the
world in general. Reinforced at home as
my own Mother sang them while she worked, These songs became ingrained in the
very fiber of my being. I sing them in
my dreams. I hum them when I do not
realize I am humming. They are as much a
part of my memories as the color of the trees I grew up under.
“He
gave me my eyes that I might see the color of butterfly wings. He gave me my ears that I might hear the
magical sound of things. He gave me my life, my mind, my heart, I thank Him
reverently for all his creations, of which I’m a part. Yes, I know Heavenly
Father love me.”
What
a kind and loving Father in Heaven we have,
to give me the opportunity to find such joy is
such a simple thing.
A deep purple Lilac.
