STORY | JONATHAN’s MOM
A Song For Elizabeth
Alicia meets Maggie in a graveyard who lays a dozen red roses on the grave of a woman named Elizabeth Margolis and sings a hymn every week
Alicia Bowers had come to Mount Calvary Cemetery in White Plains to lay flowers on her grandmother’s grave, as she had been doing every Friday afternoon since her grandmother’s death eight years ago. After her father and mother had died in a car crash, when she was 11 years old, Alecia’s grandmother had raised her and had given her a full life. It was with great joy that she had been coming for nearly 8 years and laying flowers on her grandmother’s grave. This afternoon she was surprised to find another young woman about her same age also laying flowers on a grave.
Alicia walked over after she finished, stood by, and watched as the young woman, who she later knew was named Maggie Igneri, went through a small ritual at another grave about 15 feet away from her grandmother’s grave.
Maggie had laid a dozen red roses on the grave of a woman named Elizabeth Margolis, Then began a prayer, “Dear God,” she spoke earnestly. “Please receive into your bosom, your faithful servant Elizabeth, give comfort to her family who must struggle with her loss. Open their eyes and hearts to compassion and mercy. Give them strength to endure the loneliness without her. Bring into their lives others to love them and for them to love, to bring healing and hope despite their loss, and give me the strength to be faithful to my task.”
She began to sing in what sounded like a Hebrew hymn, “Eli Eli Lama Sabachthani” she began to sing fervently and joyfully every nuanced note.
Alicia stood reverently behind her and listened to her singing. She was visibly moved by what she witnessed.
“Who is she?” Alicia asked. “Your mother? Your sister?”
“No,” Maggie answered. “She is a stranger to me. I don’t think you would believe the reason I am here.“
“I am here,” Alecia explained, “because I loved my grandmother so much. I miss her more than I can imagine missing anyone. She was my life after my parents died.”
“And this woman has now become my life,“ Maggie acknowledged and pointed to the grave. “Four years ago, all of my family died in a house fire, I was there at the funeral home alone, with grief more than I could bear. After everyone had left, I sat alone in a chair in the hallway outside the room where my family had been brought and I was crying,” she said. “This man came up to me, could see that I was visibly upset and he told me, ‘Our Lord is a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. He knows the sadness of our heart and how fragile our lives are.’ Then he handed me this card.” She pulled a worn business card out of a pocket. On one side was an image of the Greek letter Omega Ω, on the opposite the Greek word Oiktirmia. “He told me that things would get better for me and that someone would be sending me a letter.” She paused. “Three weeks after the funeral I got this anonymous letter and a savings account card. It allows me to come here three times a week, bring flowers for the grave and sing the hymn. So I do this for me, for my family and for this woman.”
“Every week for four years?” Alecia asked.
“ I haven’t missed a day.“
“How much money?“
“Enough for the flowers and gas to come here. But I’d do it even if it were my own money. Coming here has given me hope.”
“I am sorry that your family died.”
“I’m sorry that your grandmother died.”
“What do you do now?” Alecia asked.
“I work as a seamstress. My family owned a dry-cleaning store.”
“I am a fundraiser for a foundation,“ Alicia told her. “The Denton Danielsen Foundation.“ She paused. “I’m sorry. My name is Alicia Bowers.”
“Maggie Igneri.”
“Nice to meet you, Maggie.” Alicia reached out her hand. “I know where to find you now.” she paused. “You are a better person than I am, praying for this woman, whoever she was, is blessed to have someone like you.”
“No. I am blessed to have this small task to pray for her.”
“What do the words mean that you sing?”
“My God. My God. Why hast thou forsaken me?” Maggie answered. “Psalm 22 from the Hebrew Bible. Jesus sang this hymn on the cross.”
“He was singing on the cross?“ Alicia hesitated.
“His whole life was a song. The way I like to think about it is, that each of us is given a song to sing, and we all join our voices together in a huge cosmic chorus,” She paused. “This task came to me when I needed it; when I had no other reason to go on when I had lost everyone that meant anything to me.”
“That’s beautiful,“ Alicia acknowledged.
“I am grateful to have been given this small task to give meaning to my life.”
This would be the beginning for them of a beautiful friendship, one that I, Jonathan, had arranged for them. I wanted someone to watch over my mother until I found a way to pray for her myself. Oiktirmia.
