HIS BLOOD UPON A ROSE
I'm at my local grocery store enjoying all the people.
In the check-out line a man and I start talking. We're talking about (among other things) our favourite childhood cereal. I tell him I love talking to people in line-- I say I'm a writer who works at home and I don't get out much!
The man asks what kind of writer I am?
I tell him I'm a blogger and I write about 'faith and trauma'.
What comes next takes me by surprise: The man asks, "Would you like to have an International Women's Day pin?" Long story short I say, "yes,"-- I add that I wrote a paper on International Women's Day while at university.
Next, as the man digs in his coat pocket for the pin, I notice the printing on his sleeve--it says UNIFOR. I'm getting emotional. All this is really hitting me for some reason?
Pause.
Continuing, he finds it (the pin). I reach out my right hand to accept it, and with my left hand I point to the Miraculous Medal on my coat. I will pray for union workers. He nods, we go our separate ways. Why am I thinking of communion lines? Because giving and receiving and being fed is going on.
When I get home from grocery shopping I turn on the kettle and CPAC-- the GG (governor general) is handing out Order of Canada medals. I feel like I just got one at the grocery store for being a woman who writes about 'faith and trauma'.
Finally, I'm publishing this blog post on Good Friday (in the evening). I wrote it many days ago but didn't publish because I couldn't think of a title. Then suddenly I've got one-- I notice the rose design in the centre of the medal I'm holding in my hand. I think of the poem His Blood Upon a Rose.
The title was waiting for Good Friday.
