The Lady in the Green Robe

When Cassie and I were walking through an Estate Sale yesterday we found ourselves searching through bedroom closets full of women's clothing. What made this so unusual was that most of the clothing still had tags hanging from them; they had never been worn. The many closets full of very expensive skirts, jackets, leather coats and even leather pants were unbelievable! There were scarves, belts and jewelry in similar condition.

The owner of all these clothes was now gone from this life and at least twenty women milled around her room, looking through her wares. A member of the sales staff sat at a small card table close to the entry of the bedroom. She "oohed and ahhed" as one shopper tried on some of the clothing,

"You look great in everything of hers!"

Then she spoke loudly enough as to call attention to all in the room,

"Do you want to hear a story about her?" (meaning the woman now deceased)

Cassie and I remained where we were as several gathered around her small card table to listen. I was instantly uncomfortable. It seemed already to be an unfair report when there was no chance of rebuttal or explanation.

When enough women had gathered around her table she began,

"Well, the man next door told me that in all the years he was her neighbor, he only ever saw her in the same old green robe. When she sat on her porch, got the morning newspaper or retrieved mail from the mailbox she wore the same green robe for over twenty years!"

 I heard chuckling and murmuring from the women listening. It was gossip at it's worst!

I left the room sad and frankly annoyed. A woman who lived a full and long life had been diminished to a story about an old green robe. There had to more to her story.

 When I got home I pictured my rooms set up with all my "stuff" piled onto tables and counters waiting to be purchased by strangers. Stuff I couldn't take with me when I passed to the other side. Honestly it made me feel a little frightened. What one object, piece of clothing or simple dustball would be the subject of my story? My guess would be the dustball.

I often encourage friends to write the stories of their lives. Their mundane, daily routines make them believe that they have nothing particularly special to tell. This is nonsense! I believe that the magnificent happens in our daily determinations, our approach to trials and lessons learned from mistakes made. These are the details of a beautiful life.

The power of our stories help us make connections with our children. As we read the stories of those who came before us, we can honor them and in learning about their lives we can find pieces of ourselves. It will strengthen our relationships and help us understand each other better.

So, why did the woman wear the same old green robe? I can think of many reasons....could it be she was tired of wearing fancy work clothes all day and wanted to be comfortable at home? could it be a gift from someone dear to her, a sister or her mother that had passed away? maybe it was because she had a nosy next-door neighbor and she wanted to cover up!

I think it was C. S. Lewis who stated we do not "have a soul"...we are a soul and we have a body. In life the woman was clothed in a green robe and in death, like all of us, we are clothed in our stories.

If we don't share the stories of our lives we can all be summed up pretty quickly as if we never existed; just a blip on the screen. But if we share our experiences we can inspire and forge feelings of admiration and hope.

So start today...

We all have a story to tell.