Story, Value, and Becoming More Real
share post

A Thread of Kindness

January 20, 2025

Amy Grimes

The Cultivating Artist is a column that seeks to encourage and empower fellow makers. The work of an artist—that reach toward something beautiful—can feel daunting, especially at the beginning. Negative thoughts threaten to steal away sparkling possibilities. I’ve learned that by dwelling on thoughts that are lovely and true, I can fight discouragement and keep moving forward one brush stroke at a time. I want to help you fight and persevere in your work too. Here, I’ll be coming alongside you with encouragement and stories from my own life, reminding you that you’re not alone.

My grandmother, whom I called Mimi, lived to be 97. She was wonderfully creative—a seamstress, and one who valued imagination. She grew up way out in the country on a farm. The stories she told were so different from my everyday life that they felt like fiction. As a child, I loved pulling the big, old photo album down from the closet every time I visited Mimi’s house. I’d sit next to her on the faded, plaid loveseat and flip the album open in my lap. Then I’d point to black and white photos and start asking questions.

“What color was your dress in this picture? Who’s the girl sitting next to you in front of the rose hedge? Tell me the story again about how Grandpa roller skated all the way to your house to bring you flowers and a box of candy, and how you walked to the minister’s house and got married right there in the kitchen when you were only 16.” 

Mimi would quickly qualify this last point, saying, “I was almost 17.” My cousin and I always laughed about the distinction Mimi made between 16 and almost 17.

Mimi never tired of telling me her life story and I never tired of hearing it.

One day, when Mimi was in her 90’s, my daughters and I went for a visit. We knocked on her side door (only strangers came to the front). The door was glass so we could see Mimi sitting in her favorite chair, mostly with her back to us. She was talking to her elderly, gray and white cat, Tabby, who was sitting on the floor next to her looking as if she understood every word. After knocking a couple more times without getting Mimi’s attention, I twisted the doorknob and slowly cracked the door open. Before I could call Mimi’s name, my daughters and I caught this bit of conversation, directed toward Tabby: “They should be here by now, Tabby—any minute. They’ll be here soon.” 

Mimi inherited her great affection for animals (and her habit of talking to them) from her father and now it’s been passed down five generations. She didn’t just tend to her own animals but to any animal in need that came near enough to help. Tabby, for instance, had belonged to a neighbor who moved away and left their cat behind to fend for itself. 

“Mimi, we’re here!” I called, as my daughters and I walked further into the kitchen, past the old yellow stove. 

“Tabby and I were just wondering when you’d get here,” Mimi said laughing. Then she began to tell us the most wonderful story…

The week before, Tabby had been missing for a few days. This wasn’t news to me or my daughters since our whole extended family had been praying fervently that Tabby would come home unharmed. As the days stretched on, Mimi had become heartbroken and worried and her whole neighborhood had come to her aid. Everyone had been out searching for Tabby, calling her, trying to tempt her out of her hiding place with treats. Finally, as afternoon turned to evening, one neighbor heard a weak meow coming from the narrow crawlspace beneath the house next door. The neighbor tried to coax her out but Tabby was scared. She wouldn’t come to anyone except Mimi, who wasn’t steady enough on her feet to get close to the crawl space. That’s when a big, strong workman who’d been doing repairs at a house up the street offered his assistance. 

“He lifted me up in his arms as if I was a little child,” Mimi told us. “He carried me right up to the crawl space and laid me down in the grass so that Tabby could see me. All my neighbors were outside, gathered around watching.” Mimi called Tabby’s name and Tabby came limping out to meet her. The whole neighborhood rejoiced over their reunion, though I’m guessing they rejoiced quietly so Tabby wouldn’t retreat back under the house. 

As Mimi finished telling her story, I kept picturing that big, strong workman lifting her up in his arms as if she was a little child, and Mimi lying there in the grass calling Tabby’s name with all the neighbors gathered around watching like a cloud of witnesses. It seemed holy somehow, Mimi’s love for her cat and her neighbors’ love for her, and all of us, her family, praying with all our might. A thread of kindness. It seemed to me like God was saying, I haven’t forgotten you, dear one. I care about you and about all that concerns you. 

Isaiah 43:1, NASB, says,

“But now, this is what the LORD says, He who is your Creator, Jacob, and He who formed you, Israel: ‘Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine!” 

Mimi wouldn’t have described herself as an artist, but I saw her that way. She made pillows, quilts, dolls, and clothes. She made a family of calico cats that sat in a basket in her den and entertained grandchildren and later great-grandchildren. She made the best soup I’ve ever eaten, filled with vegetables from the garden she planted. And she was so very kind, like her Father in Heaven. 

Blessings to you and me as we seek to cultivate a life of kindness.



The featured image, “Kilns Dining Room Candlelight,” is courtesy of Lancia E. Smith and is used with her glad permission for Cultivating.



 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

  1. Miriam Ray says:

    I am recovering from a surgery, sit sitting here taking quiet time to read your story it was such a blessing. I love your stories as much as I love your art so keep it up and I love your story about your grandma as well because I am a grandma and I’m slowing down, but my pets are a comfort and I love this story about your Mimi.

  2. Maria says:

    This is such a beautiful memory of your grandmother. Thank you for sharing her with us.

A Field Guide to Cultivating ~ Essentials to Cultivating a Whole Life, Rooted in Christ, and Flourishing in Fellowship

Enjoy our gift to you as our Welcome to Cultivating! Discover the purpose of The Cultivating Project, and how you might find a "What, you too?" experience here with this fellowship of makers!

Receive your complimentary e-book

Explore the

Editions Archive

i

organized for ease by author and category.

View Our Editions Archive