Sandra Heska King

daring to open doors

  • Home
  • About
  • DISCLOSURES
    • Amazon Affiliate
    • Book Reviews
  • Published
  • Contact
  • Blog
    • Commit Poetry
    • Dared

Aunt Emma

October 14, 2011 By Sandra Heska King

Today Lisa Jo asks us to stop, drop, and write for five minutes on the word, “catch,” without worrying if what we write is right.

GO!

“Look! Penguins!”

I was maybe four years old, and we were at the train station.

Great-Aunt Emma had come from out of state for a visit.

Sister Mary Lucinda.

My great-grandmother’s sister.

I don’t remember this.

My mother says that Aunt Emma stayed at a local convent in the area and that she could not come into our house, so Mom served her lunch outside.

She wanted to make dessert special, so she topped it with maraschino cherries she found in the back of the refrigerator and served it up.

Grandma was horrified. The cherries had been soaking in rum for fruitcake.

So Mom sent Aunt Emma back to the convent with rum on her breath.

I wrote newsy letters to her over the years, and she wrote back every Easter and Christmas in a small, beautiful script–always in blue ink.

She encouraged me in my activities, cautioned me against doing too much, and always pointed me toward God.

Once she got special permission from Mother Superior to write “off season” because I had written an especially long newsy journal-like letter.

She is probably why I thought I might become a nun–even though we weren’t Catholic.

Then the letters stopped.

I didn’t know why.

It seems like years before my grandmother, her niece, told me that she had received a letter.

Aunt Emma had passed away.

I missed her.

I miss her.

But her letters allowed me to catch a whiff of Jesus.

STOP!

Linking also with Jennifer who’s hosting a community writing project–a word portrait of a person from our childhood who influenced us– for The High Calling.

GettingDownWithJesus

Note: I’m writing today from my mother’s hospital room. She had a brain biopsy on Wednesday. Our family is grateful for your prayers.

Share this:

  • Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
  • Click to print (Opens in new window) Print
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest

Filed Under: stories and reflections, writing

Comments

  1. Ann Kroeker says

    October 14, 2011 at 10:25 pm

    A window into the life of a nun, through your eyes–a sweet perspective. I’ll bet she loved that stream of letters from you. Imagine how your writing ministered to her, and here you are, still ministering. So glad you linked this to the community writing project!

    • Sandra says

      October 14, 2011 at 10:36 pm

      I forgot to mention that she was a teacher. I remember that my mom insisted on reading my early letters before I mailed them. Somehow I don’t think Aunt Emma would have been correcting them. 🙂

      I never thought about *my* letters ministering to *her.*

  2. Carol J. Garvin says

    October 14, 2011 at 10:42 pm

    I hope your mother is doing well and the biopsy results will be encouraging. My prayers continue for her… and for you and your family. Your love of family is always evident in your writings and your “doings”. I love your story about your Aunt Emma… rum and all. 🙂

    • Sandra says

      October 14, 2011 at 11:02 pm

      Heehee! My mom is still embarrassed when she tells the story.

      So appreciate you, Carol!

  3. Jennifer@GDWJ says

    October 14, 2011 at 10:59 pm

    I got such a kick out of the whole idea of a nun going back with rum on her breath. 🙂

    Glad you linked up, Sandy. You have such a beautiful voice, and you enrich the High Calling community with your words in this place.

    • Sandra says

      October 14, 2011 at 11:10 pm

      I almost didn’t make it. Nothing like squeaking in at the last minute. Love you, friend. You encourage me.

  4. Carrie says

    October 14, 2011 at 11:13 pm

    Hi! Coming to you through Gypsy Mama’s link-up. I loved the mental images your word portrait drew for me. I’m guessing your letters meant the world to her, and I bet she was so glad to be able to write that extra letter back to you. 🙂 Thank you!

  5. S. Etole says

    October 15, 2011 at 12:02 am

    Okay … I’m still chuckling at the penguin sighting!

    Prayers for all of you.

  6. Patricia says

    October 15, 2011 at 8:14 am

    Hi there =) So interesting to read of the nun’s life. I was schooled by those penguins my whole life… and I always wanted to wear one of the habits so I could hide things in my sleeve like they did. It was like a Mary Poppins satchel. and… I agree with Ann about your ministering words. <3 to you.

  7. Linda says

    October 15, 2011 at 1:59 pm

    I remember talking about her Sandy. She sounds like such a special lady.
    Praying for you sweet friend.

  8. Brandee says

    October 16, 2011 at 1:10 am

    I didn’t process the penguins reference ’til the second read. What depth and fun! for five minutes. I’ll never, ever be brave enough to try.

  9. Cecilia Marie Pulliam says

    October 18, 2011 at 9:54 pm

    Ah, well done! What a great story. Thank you for sharing it with us.

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Flickr
  • Instagram
  • Pinterest
  • RSS
  • Twitter

Meet Sandra

I’m Sandra, a camera-toting, recovering doer who’s learning to be. still. Read more…

Get updates from the stillness by email

Your personal information is safe and will never be shared.

Archives

Categories

Instagram Inspiration

sandraheskaking

“And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thi “And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.” ~ Philippians 4:8 

#fall #southflorida #hope #thoughts #philippians4 #dayafterelection
“My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the “My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.” ~ William Wordsworth in “My Heart Leaps Up”

🌈🌈🌈

From my back door and then from the patio. A phone can never capture the true glory of a rainbow. I hope my heart never fails to leap at the wonder of one.
We were monarch parents a couple years back, but o We were monarch parents a couple years back, but our food was not enough to support all our “children.”
🌱
But some were better parents. And next month @tspoetry is celebrating with a garden party. And you are invited. 
🌱

✨ An evening poetry celebration with Dheepa Maturi, Laura Boggess, Jules Jacob, and Sonja Johanson
✨ sign up today: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/year-of-the-monarch-garden-party-tickets-1005650847757
✨
This is called a sweetheart plant. I bought it at This is called a sweetheart plant. I bought it at a farmers market in Ponte Vedra in Feb 2023. And it hasn’t done a thing except not die. I did repot it a few months back just cuz I thought it might need it. A few days ago I noticed it was sprouting a sprout. And today—10 days after having my aortic valve replaced and the day after having a loop recorder inserted—it has UNFURLED!!! A new heart. 🩷
Looking west this morning. “Sometime, enough of Looking west this morning. 

“Sometime, enough of us should plan
to gather and form our own
luminous cloud.” ~ Luci Shaw in “The Weight of Air” (from The Generosity)
Security is on the job. Security is on the job.
So after 13 years of checkups and annual echos, it So after 13 years of checkups and annual echos, it's finally come to this. One week from today I will have my aortic valve replaced. Eeeek! I know it's done all the time--piece of cake. But that's to other people. 😂 Speaking of cake, I've always hoped to blow out 100 candles (at least), and I keep singing this line in my head...

"And my heart will go on and on." Thanks to @celinedion. 💕
Hi! Long time, no post. So… I grew this from a pi Hi! Long time, no post. So…

I grew this from a pineapple top. We repotted it again over the weekend. Still no fruit, though. Our neighbor has a baby growing on a small plant, though. What’s up with that?

(Also, I do not have a green thumb. Currently the only things still living are this, an avocado, and a little Boston fern.)
We got out here early today, but it was already so We got out here early today, but it was already soooooo hot (later on the"feels like" was 110), and I was just plodding one foot in front of the other wishing I was still in bed. There was not much to see--except the crane family, some blackbirds, a dove. And it was buggy. And a deer fly bit me on the forearm, and it swelled up, and I still have a 1- x 3-inch reddened area. But then... a pink parade.
Just snapped a couple photos of a normal looking s Just snapped a couple photos of a normal looking sky from my back patio with my iPhone! I grew up in Michigan and never saw them before! #northernlights #westboca #southflorida
“So they took branches of palm trees and went out “So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, crying out, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel!” ~ John 12:13
🌴
🌴
PALMS

He had a date with them. ~SHK
🌴
🌴
~ Six words I wrote on my blog in 2015 as part of a daily “One Word Less for Lent” series.
🌴
Photo taken in Israel, 2022.
Dressed for success... Dressed for success...
“Sing, hope, to me” ~favorite line from “The First “Sing, hope, to me” ~favorite line from “The First Spring Day” by Christina Rossetti via Every Day Poems and @tspoetry in my email this morning. 
❣️
Whole poem (with lots of favorite lines) here:
❣️
https://open.substack.com/pub/everydaypoems/p/the-first-spring-day?r=3acod&utm_medium=ios
❣️
Wild red poppy anemones from our spring trip to Israel in 2022. And, of course, red is the color of hope. 
❣️
#dipintopoetry #poetry #poetrycommunity #poetsofinstagram #tweetspeakpoetry #everydaypoems
Sweet baby colts. Just one parent. Apparently the Sweet baby colts. Just one parent. Apparently the other was hit by a car. 😭💔
Bufo serenade AKA the Ballad of the Bufo Bufo serenade AKA the Ballad of the Bufo
South Florida is confused. South Florida is confused.
“Somehow she learns to breathe.” ~ @gyoung9751 in “Somehow she learns to breathe.” ~ @gyoung9751 in “The mermaid breathes,” a woven poem from tweets. In my email today from Every Day Poems via @tspoetry.
🌱 
#dipintopoetry #everydaypoems #poetry #poetrycommunity #poetsofinstagram #poetsofig #tweetspeakpoetry
"You have what you need / is what the birds sing a "You have what you need / is what the birds sing all morning" ~ Annie Lighthart in "Conditions of Happiness."
🌱
In my email this morning from 
Every Day Poems via @tspoetry.
🌱
#dipintopoetry #poetry #poetrycommunity #everydaypoems #poem #poetsofinstagram #tweetspeakpoetry
If you’ve made it this far, the rest of the week s If you’ve made it this far, the rest of the week should be a snap. #wednesday
Stay behind me. I’ll protect you. No worries. So w Stay behind me. I’ll protect you. No worries. So will all those shots. Mostly.
🦝
D still has PTSD from the Great Possibly Rabid Raccoon Brouhaha of 2021.
Follow on Instagram

Get the Mug

Embrace the life you have t s poetry mug

Privacy Policy

Full privacy policy is available HERE.

I Read Light

TSP-Red button

bibledude-net



Sponsor a Child

Join the Compassion Blogger Network

[footer_backtotop]

Copyright © 2025 Sandra Heska King · Site by The Willingham Enterprise, LLC on the Genesis Framework by StudioPress · Log in