It was a lovely time of sharing, one of those moments I value.
"You must be tired of hearing our ramblings" Gran commented, but I felt quite the contrary, I really value the stories she has to share. They form part of my heritage not only on a broad scale, hearing about life before cellotape and plastic bags, but also on a personal level, hearing about the cockatoo that flatly stated to the milkman, "No milk today."
These stories are memories of those who have gone before me and I hope to pass these stories, along with my own to the generations that follow me. It is through these stories that the memory of those we have loved continue to live in our hearts.
A time of storytelling around the table after a good feed (care of my husband a great cook!) is a time more precious than gold!
Reflecting further on the stories we share between generations leads me to recall the stories of the bible and how they were originally shared through stories told to each other, perhaps recalled after a good feed. Stories that brought hope and revelation of who God was. Stories that shared the life of Jesus, God incarnate.
Stories past down generations that form the basis of a community of faith that continues to evolve and deepen.