This Little Light of Mine

A few weeks back I noticed a call that went out as a status update on facebook. Someone was looking for article submissions for a publication called, "A Slice of Daily Bread."

You might be unfamiliar with, "Daily Bread" (as I remember it being called when I was little) but, I grew up seeing a volume here, there, and everywhere in the houses of a few of the most important people in my life at that time.

One of the "Daily Bread" readers I knew was my Grandmother, the other, who I also liked a lot, was Margaret. Margaret was an elderly Sunday School teacher that became a caregiver for two generations of my family. She watched my mother and her brothers grow up, and then took over babysitting duties once or twice a month once mom had produced a little brood of her own. We loved Margaret.

I would always hear her voice before I would see her come through the door. She started out with, "It's Howdy Doody Time!" I thought it was funny even though I never knew what, "Howdy Doody" was.

Our favorite game was, "Tiny Talent Time." She would bring over a little microphone and tape recorder with her, and the three little Craig girls would become, "the talent" for our own special version of a show we used to see on tv sometimes. We still have tape recordings of the three of us singing, playing piano...and performing an act where we all pretended to be drunk! (I don't know how a nice little church lady like that managed the three of us so well!).

Margaret loved to do crafts. She taught me to sew, knit, cross stitch, and crochet. She played "Statues" and "Red Light" with us out on her lawn. She was also a bird whisperer. One of the things I remember most about her was the plethora of small winged children she had of her own. I was completely taken with how tame the wild birds in her yard had become and how they would come so close to her. I remember she told me once that she had needed to get after them because she had put her breakfast toast down on the porch for a moment one day, and by the time she came back from inside the house to enjoy her morning, the birds had come and eaten it all already.

Margaret had suffered from polio when she was a child and was hunched over. When I was little I asked her why she was like that...I never saw anyone else like that before...and having little to no tact (like most children) I brought it up casually in conversation. She told us that when she was a girl, the doctor told her parents that she would never walk again. Lucky for her they were wrong, and she managed to recover better than anyone had predicted. She was able to walk and get around on her own, even with a very apparent physical disfigurement.

Margaret had a kind heart and many talents. She was a light in our lives that encouraged us all to shine. Every once in a while when we would play, she would stop me and tell me the story of my baby blessing. She said, "You were blessed with the gift of music."

I do love music. For me though, that blessing has evolved into territory that is not generally connected to the statement she made. She's right, I am blessed with the gift of music, but I have come to realize this isn't a performance gift, but rather, the ability to be moved and to receive a gentle nudge from spirit through the lyrics, rhythms and melodies. I feel it fully.

I love to dance too, but that love and talent only blossomed because I feel music so fully. It bursts out of me. I can't help it. It speaks to me and encourages me. It inspires me to act.

Music came to me last week that spoke to my soul. Coincidentally, I also stumbled across a venue to share my experience with others.

When the call for, "Daily Bread" came out I thought of Margaret and all her gifts. It was a publication I always saw at her house. Later on, the music made a visit and nudged me to act.

So I acted.

I submitted a little article knowing that it would be people like Margaret that were likely to see it. People with big hearts, the ability to teach and reflect, and the ability to inspire and minister to others. Being led to share may very well have implications I never know, and I find that sort of exciting.

It seems like such a small thing, but so many of the things that we choose whether or not to act on are small things. Should we talk to that person that crossed our path at the right time? Should we make that phone call we've been thinking about? Should we put a little of ourselves out there for a good cause?

Why not? I do believe we are constantly being asked to act on behalf of something more than us. The choice to participate or to follow the call can make all the difference to one or many people...

It reminds me of the scene in, "The Power of One" when the main character contemplates the waterfall as it relates to transformation. It started with a drop.

Here is what I submitted, and what I'm tickled to report will be included in Margaret's favorite publication. So much of what I experienced the first time when I was young has stayed with me and grown into so much more than I could have anticipated as a child. I'm so grateful to people like her that were my first big teachers.

This Little Light of Mine

When I was a small girl, one of the songs I enjoyed singing the most on Sunday was, “This Little Light of Mine.” I remember being up in front of our congregation with the other children singing my heart out, and trying to remember to do all the actions that went with the song at the proper time. You remember that song don’t you? “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine…”

I’m a new mother now, and my infant son and I spend our mornings singing and listening to music in ways that were not available when I was young. Now, we turn on the X-box, and connect to, “Raffi Radio,” a streaming online radio station, and wait to see which songs will be selected for our listening pleasure. Lately, a jazzy version of that very same tune I loved to belt out when I was seven has found its way into our play list. As an adult, the lyrics have a different meaning to me and I have found a deeper inspiration when I sing to my baby.

This little light of mine

My purpose is to let it shine

This little light of mine

Calls me to find my own voice

This little light of mine

God grant me the courage to let it shine

I can shine, I am brave, See me shine

I won’t let apathy blow it out

I’ll work to make it shine

I won’t let my doubt blow it out

I trust I will be led to shine

I won’t let sadness snuff it out

I will remember to let you shine

I am your light, I am brave, See me shine

As adults we have moved beyond the innocence of our children, and the song evolves with us. Considering all the hurt, indifference, poverty, and darkness that shadow our world, this children’s hymn seems all the more important to sing, teach, and reflect on.

“This Little Light of Mine” was originally written and composed by Harry Dixen Loes (1895- 1965)