I like getting up early. The window near my computer table faces east, and if the sun is making her appearance on any particular day, I see the first ribbons of golds and yellows and pinks that she sends. I often wish I could paint, because if I could capture this loveliness on canvas, well… I think painters are touched by angels.
This morning, as I settled into my chair, I saw the most miraculous golds and yellows and pinks… most especially the pinks. The pinks were all at once Cherry and Carnation and Rose… flowers blooming in the sky. The pinks were Persian and French and Spanish-dancing Fandango… continents of pink painting the sky.
And the most glorious pink of all, the pink of Amaranth… and in that moment of Amaranth Pink, I felt the beauty and the presence of Mabel Love, the baby angel of my dear, dear, precious friend Arianne. Mabel was born a baby angel on January 8th, loved by her parents and three brothers, grandparents and family, and friends upon friends upon friends in this world of blogs. I love Amaranth Pink, named so for the color of pink Amaranth flowers… for its depth and brilliance and its divinity and femininity. But Amaranth is more sacred for its immortality, the never fading flower of purity and hope.
Mabel, adorned in Amaranth Pink, danced across the morning sky today, gently pulling with her the ribbons of golds and yellows and magnificent pinks of the eastern sun. Yes, painters and poets are touched by angels. And sometimes mere mortals are, too. I was today. Now, each time I see a sunrise, I will think of Mabel surrounded with blossoms and continents of pinks… wrapped in the everlasting beauty of her Amaranth Pink… bringing in the beauty of each new day.
Mabel Love is our poet, our painter. Mabel Love is our angel of sunrise, blooming forever in her renewal of our earth…
There are, truly, no words for how much this touches me. My heart has been broken since the news, especially because I haven’t been able to BE THERE with my sweet friend, the way I should be. The way I want to be.
The night Mabel was born, I sent Arianne this quote: “Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”
And since, every time I see a star or think of the stars, I think of Mabel, so the fact that you’re seeing her in the sunrise, and I’m seeing her in those moments after the sunset is just beautiful.
There is nothing a stranger can say that can remotely touch or ease the pain of such a loss.
I will never see or hear the words Amaranth pink, or even pink, or Mabel or love, without thinking of your dear friend.
There are not words to describe the beauty and love in this post. This will melt Arianne’s heart.
I agree with Nancy’s comment. I feel so much love and beauty in reading this post. Arianne will be ministered in such a special way when she reads this. You are a remarkable writer Sharon, as I have told you many, many times. As I commented on facebook, Mabel Love was born an angel on Jan. 8 and my daughter celebrated her birthday on that day. She will forever be remembered.
So beautiful!
Oh, Sharon. How you paint such beauty with your words in each and every post you write…Simply amazes me!
There are truly no words to describe the feelings I get from this post. Beautiful.
Thoughts and love go out to Arianne and her family. I don’t know if I mentioned to you about a friend of mine who recently lost her baby boy. I blogged about it the other day.
Amaranth Pink will forever have a special meaning from now on.