A Tube Of Lipstick

I was in the checkout line and was thoroughly enjoying the British accent of the cashier.
I listened to the way she made the most common words sound like music.
When my items were the ones she was scanning, she began to talk to me.
Love the look, she said pleasantly.

I thought she meant the look of a shirt I was buying.
I commented that it was a good price.
I don’t mean the shirt; I mean YOUR look!
I must have looked a bit confused.

You have the color going, she said waving her hands up and down.
Your glasses, coat, and lipstick are all the same color, she continued.
Well, thank you, I said awkwardly, but it was not planned.
I did a mental note and realized she was right; I did have a color theme going.

I smiled at her, noting that her observation sounded far better in her British accent.
We talked about where she called home.
I’m happy to be here in the States but I miss my Grandma, she admitted.
That bit of honesty endeared her to me even more.

I had a routine physical early the next day.
A nurse, that I had never met, was talking to me in between routine questions.
She commented on my lipstick.
I really like the color, she added as she typed my answers to her questions.

She asked me about my skin care; I admitted that I don’t wear any makeup on my skin.
But, I will not go out without my lipstick, I admitted.
Oh, my mother was like that, she shared.
Always wore the same shade and never went out without it.

I decided that I would have liked her mother.
She died a while back, she told me.
Before I could even say, I’m sorry about that, she added the words that hit my heart.
There was only one thing I wanted of hers, she explained, I wanted a tube of her lipstick.

You have your mother’s lipstick? I asked, making sure I heard her correctly.
Do you wear it? I asked.
Oh, it’s not to wear, she went on.
It’s to remember.

My throat tightened.
The memory of her mother was tightly woven to her lipstick.
That was what she wanted to keep to tangibly remember her.
It was a tender thing to have done.

I imagined the tube of lipstick tucked away in a drawer.
I imagined she pulled it out from time to time to feel close to her mother.
I knew she never attempted to put the lipstick on herself.
The tube of lipstick was valuable to her because it was used.

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. (1 Peter 3:3,4)

I mentally make the leap to my lipstick and my children.
It is hard to know what material thing a loved one will keep in order to remember.
We remember things for different reasons.
The silliest thing can be the sweetest memory.

I have worn the same perfume for 36 years.
My husband loves it.
People have asked me what perfume I am wearing.
However, I cannot smell it on me, since I am so used to it.

A signature scent is a lovely thing.
A favorite shade of lipstick can be a trademark.
There is one thing I care about even more.
I want to look like, smell like, and act like my Lord Jesus.

I want to be the aroma of Christ.
I want to resemble my Heavenly Father who created me.
I want my words to be gentle and life giving.
I want my life and all that I am to point others to Him.

One tube of lipstick.
Imagine.
The littlest thing helps others remember.
The littlest thing.