Gramma died 25 years after she stopped mothering me. But she left me something special, and I hear it whenever the need occurs. A tune wafts in unexpectedly when I am kneading bread or hanging laundry on the line. The opening phrase of an old hymn bursts from my mouth: "Are ye able," I suddenly sing out. "To believe that Spirit triumphs," I can hear Gramma picking up the next line. The verses poses a great question about faith, but I am thinking about what Gramma gave me. "Lillian," I answer, "thank you for my voice."
The smile of the contemplative in the presence of the Beloved is merely a physical expression of the total joy one perceives as one communes with God. St. Bernard used to say, "The joy of being in love is in the very loving." In other words, joy is not to be sought for itself, but is a by-product of love, and the smile is but the physical, exterior expression of the inner joy-love.
