Dieu veille

When we had small children, a new mortgage, and little money, I made "blessing bags" on Christmas for the Resident Fan Boy, Demeter, and my Friend of the Right Hand. The idea came from the "Angel Cards" we had on a table at Victoria Hospice. One of the nurses told me that if you drew three at a time, you would have many, many combinations.

The Resident Fan Boy didn't seem to have much use for his, so I commandeered it, and draw three blessings each day.

It was only this morning, after a sad phone-call about a professional set-back for elder daughter in London, that I remembered I had tucked a handful of keepsakes and inspirations in the blessing bag as well.

Among them is a treasure from Mary Helen, the friend who died three weeks, but the news only reached me yesterday.

(Courage donc, et patience, monsieur. Courage pour les grandes douleurs de la vie, et patience pour les petites. Et puis, quand vous avez laborieusement accompli votre ouvrage de chaque jour, endormez-vous avec sérénité. Dieu veille.  - from an 1841 letter written to Savinien Lapointe, a cobbler and a poet, whom Victor Hugo encouraged.)

Mary Helen gave me this years ago, during one of my summers in retreat to Victoria from Hades.  It was probably during one of my "used years".  She scribbled it on the back of one of her business cards.  I hadn't forgotten it was there, because I regularly take it out when I've used all the blessings and shuffle them before returning them to the bag.  But, in the shock of yesterday, it had slipped my mind.

It's a message from her, on repeat, every few months.  It's a comfort to know that this will continue.