You were always so headstrong, so quick, so much in a hurry to grow up, never quite mindful of what was going around. I often had wished that I could have kept you a baby forever.... When you stop running, when it’s time for you to slow down, I want you to take out your Gram’s old soup pot, and make your house a home. I have enclosed the recipe for your favourite soup, the one I used to make for you when you were my baby. Remember I love you, and love is forever...Your Gram.

I sat reading that note over and over that morning, sobbing that I had not appreciated her enough when I had her... “You were such a treasure,” I moaned, “Why didn’t I even bother to look inside this pot while you were still alive...!”Needless to say, my briefcase remained locked, the answering machine continued to blink, and the disasters of the outside world were put on hold. I had a pot to soup to make, and for once, my priority was clear.

Hours later, after cutting, mincing and dicing, the smell of soup began to waft through the kitchen. I closed my eyes. It was as if Gram were here again, I could almost feel her arms around me.

I got up to close the kitchen window, as I didn’t want any of this precious memory to escape. At first, I thought I had imagined it, so I blinked. But it was still there, sitting in the middle of my empty bird feeder, cocking its head, and staring at me...the most beautiful, brilliant cardinal I had ever seen... — Beliefnet.com (Concluded)