“You Are My Sunshine” is a piece of music that makes people smile. Tap toes. Hum. Sing along. Turns out this happy song can also make people burst into tears when skies are gray.

Skies got gray for my family recently when we lost Ella Pingle, my great-aunt who brought her sunshine to our world for 96 years. Sitting in the little church in Butte Falls last week waiting for her memorial service to begin, I saw on the program that after Psalm 100, there would be ukulele music.

I have no problem with ukulele music, but can’t recall Auntie Ella ever having a particular fondness for the ukulele. Pretty sure I would remember that. So the ukulele seemed an odd choice.

Then Lauila got up in front of the church and introduced herself. Said she’s from Samoa. Had surgery and recovered in a care center where her roommate was Ella Pingle, who was there for a broken hip. Ella was a Vaudeville contortionist and circus trapeze artist in her younger days, so that hip went through a lot before giving out on her.

Lauila hadn’t known Ella long, but was glad for the time they had together. Ella had talked about her family, now seated here in this church to remember her. Then Lauila reached down and picked up her ukulele. Said she and Ella liked to sing together in their room. This was Ella’s favorite song. She’d like to sing it for us. She started into “You Are My Sunshine” with her soft voice, strumming quietly on her ukulele.

I made it halfway through the first verse before I sniffled. Please don’t take my sunshine away. My eyes got a little hot. There was welling. Felt a few drops brim over and run down. Brushed those away, but the congregation was singing along now and somehow this increased water pressure behind my eyes. I was making noises that were not musical. My nephew, Jacob, put his hand on my shoulder and asked if I was OK.

I don’t usually cry much. But the sky has been awful gray for my family recently. Ella’s son, Bruce, died shortly before her. Cancer. Bruce Pingle was a wonderful person. His mother, Ella, was a wonderful person. Bob Rombach was a wonderful person. Lots of sunshine taken away this year. Lauila kept strumming her ukulele and, let me tell you, that song goes on for awhile if you know all the verses. And Lauila does. For somebody who doesn’t cry much, I felt like I had sprinklers in my face and couldn’t find the shutoff. I was wrong about the ukulele being an odd choice. It was perfect. Just perfect.

And now I will turn this into a happy story. Ella being there at Christmas has been a tradition for years. We’ve seen many gifts unwrapped in her presence. Looked up and exchanged glances, smiling when one of the kids shouts because Santa has done it again.

I think without that ukulele, I’d be going into Christmas this year focused on the gray skies. Lauila got me turned around to appreciate the years Ella, Bruce and Bob were with us. A simple thing, but just like the song, it can make you happy when skies are gray.

So look around Christmas morning and see who it is you’re spending that special day with. And soak up their sunshine. Because you can store it up. So can they. It lasts.

And if you’re thinking of giving a ukulele for a Christmas gift, keep in mind those things can make people cry.