One of my favorite little books, written and illustrated by Tasha Tudor, is A Tale for Easter. This Sunday, March 13, will mark seventy years since it was published. I searched for the book after being so intrigued by the story of its debut in the Spring of 1941...no one realizing the world would be at war, soon after. When the small, square, green cloth-covered book arrived, I was so taken with the illustrations and the simplicity of its text. When I turned to the page that read, "There might even be a bunny in Grandma's rocking chair"... I was delighted to see a picture of a rocker that resembles my "Grammy's rocker"...a dark brown wicker with red toile cushions... given to me by my mother, and in which I rocked Xavier as an infant. There is a wonderful creaking it makes, as I rock slowly back and forth, and that tiny little fellow came to recognize it as a comforting sound. As I cradled his head in the crook of my left arm, the pressure of my elbow caused an ever-growing weak spot in that section of the chair's wide arm. As Xavier grew, he liked poking his fingers into the cracking wicker, pulling out little pieces as they began to weaken. A friend visiting our home, noticed this hole, and after my lengthy, affectionate explanation of the cause of this "defect", she gave me a piece of reassuring advice..."never, ever cover that spot....it will always be a precious reminder of rocking your grandbaby."
So now I rock our newest grandbaby, Sophia Abigail, in this creaking chair... resting my elbow on the worn arm...and thinking of the words of a sweet song "rockin' chairs, rockin' babies, rock-a-bye, rock of ages."
