Imagine a cool breeze blowing through the room, the sun shining into your eyes as you attempt to squeeze a few more minutes of blessed, relaxed sleep. Then there is a chord from the piano downstairs. And your grandmother’s voice warbles out the words, “It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord.”
I would open my eyes to the glorious day ahead. A day spent with my grandparents. Walking down the stairs past the mural my mother painted when she was a few years younger than me, I carefully navigated the carpeted, narrow steps. The banister helped me stay upright, and I looked around the lavender and gold living room. This house is my place of peace.
Through the years, my grandmother played the piano. She taught lessons. And she could yell from the kitchen to me in the living room, “Flat that B!” The dining room held windows and shelves filled with violets. The kitchen was filled with love and fragrant food. Washing dishes while looking through the window was a practice of meditation.
The back porch is filled with an ice cream maker and memories, and the back porch reminds me of shelling peas. The humidity of Oklahoma and the coming heat of a summer day fill the air with the spice of the flowers blooming nearby. And then the sounds of grandma playing scripture songs for grandpa, his favorite one, “Verily, Verily, I say unto you.”
In 1975, Grandma self-published her scripture songs. I used my copy, signed by my grandmother, to scan in the pages. I tried to make them clear and easy to read. I hope you enjoy the songs as much as I did.
