May 8, 2022
I wonder how loud it would have sounded. I wonder how loud that knock on the door would have been, in the midst of a home that suddenly felt so empty, in the midst of the utter silence of grief. I wonder how surprised – no, maybe even shocked – the widow would have been to have found a warm, knowing, smiling face on the other side of the door, and feel hope. Feel that the world might begin to turn right side up again. I wonder when she first touched the fabric that Tabitha held out to her, how did the softness of that which Tabitha had made with her own hands to give to her, how did that softness begin to break down barriers, self-protecting barriers that were already forming. I wonder how being wrapped in that kind of love returned expansion to a world and life that must have seemed like it was shrinking by the moment. I wonder how long it was before that woman — that first widow that Tabitha came to visit, that first widow out of many widows — I wonder how long it was before she came and joined Tabitha to go to the next grief-stricken home. I wonder how long it was before she wanted to add her own knowing smile, and maybe even her own touch of softness, some touch of hope to moments that must have felt anything but hopeful.