You can tell a good bit about a soul
by what she quietly carries home.
Me?
I’ve carried a little of everyone
who ever helped me find my wings.
Some are gone now.
Some are still walking beside me.
Look a little closer …
and you’ll find they’ve left thier mark on me and my nest below.
The Mississippi River taught me what to do with all I’ve been given.
Each morning,
she lifts her veil of mist and whispers,
Follow me.
You see,
that river has been gathering things for a long, long time.
Earth from somewhere far away.
A little here…
a little there…
Carrying it south and laying it down.
Until, gradually our Louisiana came to be.
The old people called that gathered earth alluvium.
Folks along the bayou say
the Mississippi knew my name before I did.
I reckon she did.
They call me Miss Alluvia.
Through the bayous and the basin,
Louisiana had no shortage of teachers.
The bullfrogs taught me
never to be afraid of my own voice.
The snapping turtles taught me
patience…
and when to stand my ground.
The largemouth bass showed me
that true strength does not always announce itself.
Sometimes it moves silently beneath still water.
And when the sac au lait flashed silver-white,
they reminded me that even muddy waters can hold treasure.
I did not simply pass through their world.
It became a part of me.
The fish became my feathers.
The old maps became my roots.
And the river?
I know her song by heart.
It always leads me home.
Deeper in the bayou,
I could almost hear the dip of wooden paddles.
Acadian families traveled these waters long before me,
guiding their pirogues toward an uncertain shore.
They carried little the eye could count…
but everything the heart needs to begin again.
Faith, courage, music, and stories.
They taught me that home is not always where your story begins.
Who we become is woven from what we live along the way.
And everywhere I went,
I found another thread.
Rhythm from the fiddles.
Grace from the dancers.
Wonder from the painters.
Joy from festivals spilling into the streets,
where strangers become neighbors
and neighbors become family.
Shelter from the oaks.
Endurance from the cypress.
And a community that knows a gift is worth more
when it’s shared.
Louisiana calls me her state bird.
But the feeling has always been mutual.
I carry Louisiana as surely as she carries me.
As I began making a place for those who would come after me,
one thing became clear.
They would need more than reeds and branches.
So I wove in what had been given to me.
Music among the twigs, so they would recognize joy.
Art between the branches,
so they might imagine what could be..
Stories beside the maps,
so they would know where they come from…
and dream of where they might go.
One experience supports another.
One story makes room for the next.
What was once scattered becomes shelter.
And there, at the heart of it all…
three eggs.
The quiet reason for all this gathering.
Raw.
Untouched.
Their stories still unwritten.
I could pass along all I’d been given.
But who they become?
That story is theirs.
Now, I may be the one with feathers…
but I’m not the only one building a nest.
Every one of us has something worth passing on.
A song.
A story.
A little courage somebody once lent us.
And sometimes,
all it takes is someone willing to make room.
Room to try.
To find their own voice.
To discover a gift they didn’t know they had.
Our Creator planted those gifts to grow beyond us.
So, like the Mississippi,
we lay down what we’ve been given.
Making fertile ground for somebody else.
A place safe enough to begin.
Rooted enough to leave.
And loving enough to return to.
That’s what I’ve been quietly carrying home.
A little of everyone
who ever helped me find my wings.
One day, these little wings will rise.
And when they do,
I hope they carry more than a little of us.
I hope they carry the knowing…
that somewhere,
someone is waiting
for what only they can give.
Miss Alluvia
36 × 48 inches
Mixed media on raw linen
Miss Alluvia will spread her wings
at the Acadiana Center for the Arts’ Pelican Ball
on Friday, November 6
an evening celebrating the arts and the people who help them flourish.
I’d love for you to meet her there.
Pelican Ball details & tickets →
The Legend of Miss Alluvia
Her full story will be linked here soon.
“As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.”
I Peter 4:10
