I'm sure that my family was no different in that we had stories that were told and re-told over the years. These were usually humorous anecdotes and I suppose those which involved children made up the majority of the tales.
Mama like to tell a story about me and a purse. It was not uncommon for our family to visit cattle farms and ranches on Saturdays. One of our common destinations was the ranch of a family friend, Mr. Berchman. He was a Cajun character. His life seemed to be a series of exciting stories and it was always interesting to visit his home. When I was about four, we went for a visit and I accidentally left behind a little coin purse. We visited again about a month later and I found that Mr. Berchman had not only kept the purse for safe-keeping, but he had filled it with pennies.
A few months later, we visited Mr. Berchman again. Mama would always laugh as she described catching sight of me out of the corner of her eye as we prepared to leave Mr. Berchman's house after that visit. She said I was trying to put the purse I'd brought--one of her really big ones that had escaped her attention--under a pillow on the couch.
Spiritually speaking, I'm taking the really big purse to God. And I feel like I'm sneaking in to do it. I remember all the times before when He's filled me with His grace in ways I hadn't expected. I know he can fill me in the small amounts I need, but I feel like I need a huge outpouring right now. So, I know my destination--mass, confessional, adoration, prayer and devotion time--and I'm being emptied so He has more room to fill me, in a really big way.