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A Butterfly Candle Holder for Today and Beyond

April 3, 2016

On this First Sunday After Easter, it’s with her permission that I share what Jane Ries wrote recently (and yup, she’s one more amazing member of the delightful church I serve) —

An Easter Meditation

Tucked away on a shelf in the closet is a treasured item. A wooden butterfly candle holder. To some it might look like something you could pick up at a garage sale. To me, it’s a treasured memento of faith being shared through the generations.

Let me take you back over twenty years ago. My mother was a Christian who believed if you “talk the talk” you must “walk the walk”. Mom loved to decorate for the holidays and she loved having the grandkids help her. A couple of weeks before Easter, Mom called me and asked me to bring Kristina over to help on a special Easter project. I dropped her off and left to run errands.

When I came back, the two of them were sitting around the dining room table. Kristina proudly showed me the wooden butterfly candle holder she had colored with markers and crayons. Before I could ask what it was for, Kristina told me the meaning of the candle holder. “Mommy, Grandma Rhea said a butterfly is a lot like Jesus. Just like Jesus was buried in a tomb, the butterfly was trapped in its cocoon. Both were freed and bring beauty and hope to our world. On Easter Sunday we’ll light our butterfly candles and remember that Jesus rose from the dead to be the light of our world.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as Kristina went back to finishing her candle holder. I walked over and hugged Mom as we listened to Kristina singing “I am a Promise, I am a Possibility . . .” When Easter Sunday arrived, our whole family gathered around the dining room table and held hands while Dad led us in prayer. Our faces were bathed in the light from 8 butterfly candles – – -one for each grandchild Mom had shared her faith with.

More than 25 years have passed since then. Mom has been gone since 1993, but when Kristina married, in her bridal bouquet was a butterfly, and yes, we played “I am a Promise”.

Live . . . . Love . . . . Laugh.



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  1. Debbie permalink

    Love memories and traditions passed down by parents and grandparents. Thanks Jane for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

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