Savoring the Honeysuckle Story
By
Maureen Miller
Maybe
my love for story originates from these early recollections—both the particular
story Momma told as well as our surroundings as Once upon a time
unfolded on that Ohio porch. Perhaps it’s something else. An intrinsic passion
deposited by our Creator. Whatever its origin, such directs me—as a reader and
a writer—toward stories in which the natural world is woven throughout.
It’s
why I love Laura Ingalls Wilder books, with her family’s adventures as farmers,
their homestead on the Kansas prairie, and the sisters’ delight discovered in
fields of dancing wildflowers. I also love Gene Stratton Porter’s classic The
Girl of the Limberlost with its infusion of both botany and biology, not to
mention Wendell Berry’s poignant and beautiful Jayber Crow. A few more
recent examples include Sugar Birds by Cheryl Grey Bostrom, Delia Owens’
Where the Crawdads Sing, and The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk
Kidd.
Each
of these authors captures the nuance, subtle and otherwise of beauty in God’s
created world, even if the writers themselves don’t personally acknowledge Him
(though I would gently refer them to Romans, chapter one). Indeed, this sort of
writing moves me most.
When
I wrote my debut novel, Gideon’s Book, I desired to weave bits and
pieces of the natural world into my dual timeline tale. Having read a beautiful
novel by Vanessa Diffenbaugh called The Language of Flowers—including
its dictionary of flowers and their meanings—I determined to include a
variety of flowers and herbs in my book as well, each added with intentionality,
holding symbolism related to the overriding plot.
Take,
for example, my use of geranium. My protagonist, Cassie Billings, catches a
whiff of this flowering plant while savoring a quiet moment on her porch with
her husband. She sighs. “Geranium. It means true friendship … That’s us, Grant.”
Another
example in Gideon’s Book is a simple bouquet, delivered by Cassie’s daughter.
Cassie battles insecurity, questioning her purpose and God’s plan for her life.
The gift of this nosegay, comprised of clover (“think of me”) and cinquefoil
(“beloved daughter”) arrives at the perfect time, offering Cassie confirmation
regarding both her worth and her future.
One
final example is when Cassie arrives at her friend Fiona’s home in Eden, North
Carolina. About to embark on a journey, she steps into the past as part of a
research project. As Cassie approaches Fi’s front steps, she recognizes a
familiar fragrance. Inhaling, she smiles at the irony. After all, the rosemary
she detects symbolizes “remembering.”
Again,
perhaps that’s why I love story. Like my protagonist, I, too, remember
nostalgic moments with Momma on the porch. Despite living in a bustling city, I
was safe there on the swing, surrounded by God’s created world in its various
forms, the symbolism of honeysuckle working its magic.
After
all, each time Momma began, “Once upon a time, there was a little girl and a
kitten…” I was swept away, carried by the power of her woven words, that which
became a tapestry of characters, settings, and a plot that satisfied. And my devotion
to story remains to this day, both as a reader and a writer.
So,
how about you? What memories either fuel your love for story or direct your
favored genre choices, those you savor most?
Photo by Janeson Keeley on Unsplash



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