I am No. 6 of my grandmother’s 20 grandchildren. She is No. 20, the runt of the litter.
She is as hard headed as she is tender hearted. Her dark hair fames an angelic face with her
dad’s full lips, her mom’s porcelain skin and eyes that sparkle blue when she
laughs and deepen to blue/ green when she is daydreaming.
She does a lot of daydreaming.
At first glance, she seems exotic. A wisp of a girl, so
naturally beautiful she seems otherworldly. Her
molasses-rich drawl reveals southern roots as deep as the Mighty Mississippi. Her dream car is a big black pick-up
truck. The epitome of a Mississippi
girl.
She is fiercely loyal, slow to anger, forgiving, humble. A true, blue daddy’s girl as only southern
girls can be.
My baby cousin, Summer.
In a huge North Mississippi family of Alewine grandchildren,
Summer is the baby of my grandmother’s baby boy. While
the rest of us Alewine cousins were named solid baby boomer names like Martha,
Pam, Jeff, Gail, Rhonda, Dianne, and Sandra,
Summer was named, well, Summer.
Her name describes her perfectly. She is warm, loving, breezy. She is drawn to the lost, mistreated, and
misunderstood. She is forever “collecting” people she believes need
saving. She offers her ear, her heart
and her home to anyone who needs it.
She is a shining light in a troubled world.
Summer doesn’t just talk about Jesus to anyone who will
listen. She shows them who he is.
The Alewine people are a rowdy outgoing, family of folks
who love to spin a good tale, laugh and have a good time. Summer is different. A true introvert in a huge family of
extroverts, Summer loves spending time with her dogs, close family and a few
special friends. She is quiet and
guarded. She will tell you she is
blessed.
Even the most blessed of God’s children do not escape the
ugliness of life on this earth.
On a cold winter night in February 2009, Summer lost her precious
mother in a car wreck.
I remember that dark day. I grew up with my Uncle Stevie
and love him like a brother, but I barely knew this young cousin of mine. I did not know what to say to this damaged
girl who had just lost her mother. I sat
outside her bedroom and prayed for the right words to say. I asked God to use me to comfort her in some
way.
Her door never opened; I did not find the words. I left my uncle’s home without even seeing her
that day.
I prayed. God had a plan.
While I was praying for her and seeking God’s plan for her,
she was challenging me with Biblical questions that I would have to research in
order to answer. This girl makes me think.
While I was convincing her that she is strong and resilient
and independent, she was showing me how to find joy in the simple things in
life – a new puppy, a playful child, an old time gospel singing.
While I searched for the perfect Christmas gifts for her in
a multitude of stores and websites, she quietly gave me the most precious
gifts…. Things of her mother’s that she knew I would love. Arthur Court serving trays, a precious
handmade canister set, a wall clock that is perfect for my home. Things that mean something to her that she
wanted to share with me. Priceless gifts from her heart.
We talk about the simple things of life, her job, her daddy
and my mama, our shared love for our family.
One minute we may be discussing the pros and cons of vitamin supplements
and the next we could be talking about the meaning of life. Many times, our messages back and forth go on
for hours; some days we just say hello.
We rarely ever go a day without connecting in some way.
Sometimes there are tears, but there is always laughter.
On that tragic day in 2009, this heartbroken girl captured
my heart. She continues to teach me so
much about life, loss, joy, and family.
Even though she has shown me things I could no longer see, I watch her searching for answers, for truth, for the
way back from the darkness.
She may not be able to see her light just yet, but I see it
shining brightly in the lives of the children she keeps at daycare and their
parents she invites to church. In the
lives of people who need a meal, a bed or just a pat on the back. In the eyes
of her beloved daddy.
And, in the life of an older cousin who loves her like a
sister, prays for her like a mother and is blessed to be with her on this lighted
path we call life.
Matthew 5:16
