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A sweet lady from our church family died last month — a true prayer warrior who lived her faith every moment of her life.  Her daughter lives out-of-state, so now that her executor has distributed her most important possessions, a group of us are preparing what is left for a yard sale this weekend.

Her things are such a reflection of the life she lived.  Although in her eighties, she was adept with the computer and used hers daily, for years printing out our weekly church newsletters and snail-mailing them to congregants without computer access.  At the same time, she believed in old methods (Bon Ami scrubbing powder, anyone?) and being prepared (does anyone really need 4 gallons of Clorox?).

And sprinkled throughout everything are the dragonflies.  Dragonflies made into bibelot boxes, strands of lights, magnets, tucked into corners, resting on mirrors.

Her apartment was the drop-off spot for the veggies from our church garden.  Her neighbors would stop by, visit a bit, and go home with whatever had been picked that day.  Before we learned to plant a bit less, the neighbors shared zucchini recipes for the seemingly endless squash harvest.

I doubt that her apartment will stay vacant for long, as it is in the center of a thriving senior community.  I hope the “new” neighbor will be welcomed into her space, and blessed by the spirit of Dame Dragonfly.

We will miss you, Johnnie Mae.

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