When one line can mean so many different things

I've promised to not make this blog about politics, so I'll make my comment open-ended and general: "UGH!!!" That is all.

I've also promised to not go into a religion debate on here. It's not my thing. To each his own.

That said...My sister in blogging crime, Stay At Home Babe, inspired this entry.

I grew up with my grandma singing "This little light of mine" to me. A lot. I loved the song, knew all of the hand gestures, when to yell "NO" when Satan interfered, etc.

Years later, my boyfriend (husband now) got me tickets to see my all-time favorite real life celebrity.

I'm not talking about cartoon versus non-cartoon when I say "real life." I'm talking about non-Hollywood, real people with real experiences, that have nothing to do with the drama of their own self-promoted fame.


[Yes, Octomom, I'm talking about you and your promotion whirlwind...you may NOT under no circumstance bitch about paparazzi.  EVER.]

Maya Angelou. The REAL deal. Such a strong, and honest person.

She closed her talk by singing "This little light of mine." It was so different than the way I had always sung the song. And honestly, I hadn't even thought about the song for years, let alone sing it. It brought a whole new meaning to it.

I included the line "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine" in my college graduation invitations that year.

It meant so much more to me on many different levels at 22 than it did at 4. Like my appreciation for food, my life's palette had deepened.

Happy tones, sad tones, religious tones, secular tones, oaky tones, citrus tones - all that I had developed over my few years. Experience.

I was graduating from college - going on to grad school. I was owning my life. Doing the best I am capable of achieving.

Shining.

Seven years later, I found myself holding my teeny tiny little Babygirl.

Itsy bitsy feet, hands.

Nose.

Eyelashes.

Breaths.

I cried the first time I sang that song to her. Hard. It was incomprehensible.

She slept.

She's my light. The focus of my rays. If eclipsed, one would see other lights from me. Other directions. Family, friends, work, play.

But I'm happy to let this little light of me shine.