Many, many years ago when I was young I always received a brand new box of crayons on the Saturday before school started each fall. Why Saturday? Because my father was issued his hard-earned paycheque on Friday, so Saturday was designated school-essentials shopping day.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Besides the textbooks and workbooks, there were pencils, a sharpener, a big pink rubber eraser, a ruler, and a decorated slim box to contain the accessories. But it was the familiar yellow box of Crayolas, all sharp and pointy, that excited me the most. Ah, such artistic hopes those crayons awakened in my stubby little fingers.

Fast forward (for tempus always fugits*) four score years to today’s all-encompassing craze of adult colouring books. Shiny, sleek themed issues are jumping off the shelves of mega bookstores, grocery stores, and every craft and stitching establishment in the nation. We have mastered colouring inside the lines, but now these publications promise therapeutic benefits to our soul with the purchase of an adult colouring book and a set (or two or three) of coloured pencils. It will centre and calm us, reduce stress, and fill us with mindfulness. One page at a time.


Recently our delightful family gathered for a mini-reunion. We enjoyed a plethora of good food and conversation. We shared recipes for salsa, the easiest way to retrofit a builder’s closet into an efficient and sturdy kitchen pantry, and touched on parental concerns (i.e., what to do with Mum in July when we all have preplanned and prepaid vacations looming).

By this time most of the adult progeny were still at the dining room table, now cleared of the detritus of the meal and strewn with eight different adult colouring books and 118 coloured pencils of various shades. As the colourists doodled, fish, flowers, and mandalas took on vibrant or whimsical brightness.

When in the process of finishing a motif in the adult colouring book and you happen upon the perfect hue, the absolute right shade of colour, for a split second life is correct. You are suddenly calm, centred, de-stressed, full of mindfulness and purpose. One page at a time, you have achieved the restorative benefits you craved.

Among the earlier sibling banter and teasing, one thing united our merry group. All concerned agreed there was not a single decent purple coloured pencil in the collection. Not one. For me, I needed to find the perfect depth of purple.

Purple flowers

Photo by Digital Echo Photography

Purple is a very important colour. It is intense. It is rich. Purple is full of basic goodness. It is a legacy of promise for the worried heart, a hope for brighter tomorrows, a passion for concern and caring.

Some legacies are singular and intentional—they arrive straight from the gene pool. Like the colour of your daughter’s eyes or the dimple in your grandson’s cheek. Other legacies are part of a bucket list—the desire to leave your wee corner of Earth a better place because you have lived in it this little while.

My legacy is intertwined with the colour purple.

I covet purple in my life.

I need purple in my inner core.

I need to leave a bit of purple when I die. It will coat my ashes and make glad my mourners.

This weary world, too, could profit from a generous splash of purple.


*Time flies

Please leave a comment below if you are so moved. Of course, we want to know, what colour is part of your legacy?

Sign up to ensure you don’t miss an issue of Legacy Conversations.

0 replies

Leave a Reply

Want to join the discussion?
Feel free to contribute!

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.