Rachel Smith Maher ~ Artist and Poet

Five years ago a young mother passed away from a terrible blood cancer.   Her friends and neighbors loved her so much they wanted to honor her memory in some quiet way.   They approached her widower to inquire about how best to accomplish their mission and ask his blessing.     He recalled how compassionate the nurses and staff at the hospital had been toward him and his 6 year old son.   “Something that reminds them of Liesel, her journey, and how they helped us through” was his best suggestion.   “Maybe a painting to hang at the hospital that was Liesel’s ‘home’ for so many months”, he offered.    The neighbors went away puzzled, as they were not personally familiar with any artists, nor did they think they could raise the funds to purchase such a memorial.   However, they prayed, and trusted that if it was meant to be, it would come about.   And it did.   The daughter of one of the neighbors had a friend who was just getting sta...

If we fail to pause, even for a moment, to bear witness to nature, why are we here?  Beyond cars and concrete and cappuccinos is a world that quietly marks the passing of time through light and tracks and new birth...melting snow, green buds, singing birds.  To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under Heaven.  This painting is of a large pine tree that sits on the edge of our property line.  I look out upon it as I sip my morning coffee.  And in certain seasons, the morning light illuminates the base of the trunk and lower branches.  It has always captured my attention--enchanting me with thoughts of  how light can make its way through a thicket to warm up the snowy forest floor.  Today, as I was silently watching through my window, a deer made its way behind the tree and rested just to the right of the trunk, nestled in the snow, taking a moment to her self.  Made me wonder if she would farrow early and bring forth an...