My niece Meadow and I braved the sprinkling rain and fog to have some photo fun together. At the last minute we decided to have her don her grandmother's wedding dress. The woods smelled of wet leaves. The mountain was lush, fragrant and a little bit haunting, blanketed in mist. I couldn't help thinking about all that this dress represented. It was June 1970 when my mother wore this gown and said "I do," setting in motion so many lives and so many stories. I look at her young face and know I am not far off from having daughters her age.  I look at the yellowing lace reminding me that she is part of something so much bigger. She is God's daughter and woven into our family tree with roots that are long and gnarled, like those that we are walking over. We are part of where we have come from, so much love, struggle, sorrow and promise. We are born of love and carried on the whispered prayers of our grandmothers, and great grandmothers. They were brave immigrants, women who knew wars and loss and music and laughter. Each carrying pieces of the previous generation of mothers, teachers, musicians, dreamers... lives full of so much hope, so much promise. Lord, that we would give our daughters roots and wings.