“You know kids, New Orleans, or Nawlins as your great-maw-maw called it, was my favorite place in the world when I was your age.  As soon as Christmas break would end, I’d start countin’ down the days to summer break.  Christmas time and summer time where the only times I got to come visit maw-maw and the beach.”

Little Jake, five, and Emma, seven, just smile up at me and immediately return to their sandcastle building.  I know they’d rather play in the sand than listen to their mama tell old stories, but I like to reminisce any chance I get.  So, while I let the kids get back to their present-day activities, my mind still lingers in the past.

Maw-maw was a strong woman. She would always hold my hand and look me straight in the eyes when she talked to me.  Everything she said was spoken with a quiet confidence. And when I looked back into her eyes, I believed whatever she said, no matter how fantastic or farfetched it may have been.

Once I left her presence, I may begin to question her stories but while looking into her eyes I couldn’t help but believe. Somehow, in those moments, the facts didn’t matter and her unshakable faith was evidence enough.

Maw-maw was also a devout Catholic, as was her mom, and her mom’s mom.   Never would she miss Mass on Sunday, the Holy Day, and would even attend a couple times during the week.  Of course, when I would visit her I was also drug to Mass. I was even named after the local parish, Stella Maris.  Yet, I never understood a word being said. Probably because half the time Mass was held in Latin, and even when it wasn’t, the English wasn’t any more comprehendible.   But it didn’t matter to me, that place felt good.

The smell of Frankincense and Myrrh, while not necessarily pleasant, was comforting. Even the ding… ding… ding… of the priest’s brass incense boat as he swung it down the aisle over the crowd, had a magical ring to it.   The paintings and statues of Mary, Jesus, and the Disciples, though old-fashioned, slightly creepy, and always mistakenly portraying Jesus as a white, western looking man, were beautiful, majestic, and told the story of a hundred  different artist.