By Rachel and Her Parents
Pre existence
The loosely woven curtain
to the right of my cherrywood sewing cabinet were fully drawn to let in as much
light as possible this late afternoon, Tuesday, January 24, 1978. The ancient black motor, faintly
resembling a giant mosquito, hovered motionless over the blue baby's bubblesuit that was beginning to take shape under my swift fingers from some
leftover scraps of matching Christmas cardigans that I had made for my
husband and son. In my private communication with eternity, I knew my unborn
child was a girl whom I would name Rachel, "the beloved." She would
be my parent's first granddaughter. Be cause my yearning for her was so
deep-souled, I outwardly pretended, even to myself, that this one would be
another boy. I could not bear my "premonition" to be wrong,
and I must confess that I tend to be a "doubting Thomas".
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Rachel's spirit
was with me in the temple that evening "Lamaze kit
a voluminous "Save-Our-Trees" ning. The memory of the
sweetness of that experience sustained me
during a very uncomfortable
pregnancy and delivery. And when she was born, my spirit nodded
assent - yes, of course it was a daughter, Rachel
Ann. Having a precious child like her and having
Chad is worth all the distress
in giving birth.