Meet Sister Cecilia. She is in the midst of gardening, with her basket and her scissors and her apron. She proudly holds flowers in her right hand.
She belonged to my mother, who had fond memories of her years in a Catholic high school in New Orleans. In 2004 I accompanied my mother to a reunion where a beloved nun joined in on the fun with a dozen of her former students.
I don’t know what to do with this doll, though. I want to show her to my friend, Dancing Mandolin Player, whose joy in her flower garden lights up her summers and whose generous gifts of flowers to her friends are amazing. But after that, what?
Sister Cecilia looks like she is about to hand the flowers to someone while saying, “Isn’t this beautiful?”
As you know, I’ve been cleaning the storage room and making hard decisions about things I’ve hauled around for decades.
It doesn’t get any easier.