Thursday, March 18, 2010
I Succumbed Again
Today he had Easter baskets with a rabbit and a chick, a bookmark and the flower like I got before. Of course, I couldn't decide so I bought the two things I didn't already have. Half his profits still go to Primary Children's Hospital. I imagine his worldly needs are few. His appearance doesn't leave you thinking he's deprived or desperate like the unkempt, cardboard-holding, scraggily dressed person on the corner of WalMart's parking lot.
Anyway, I paid for and picked out my preferences from his selection and carefully put them in a safe place in my basket. I got a few more things and when I was walking back up to the front of the store to pay for my 'worldly' needs (black juice included), I noticed the bookmark was no longer in my basket. Frantically I rearranged the few items I'd picked off the shelf, in hopes of finding it had just gotten buried. I retraced my steps, watching the floor the whole way. Nothing. I felt careless. All of a sudden I was three feet tall and waiting to be scolded by an adult for not taking better care of my things. Even now, it makes my eyes tear up.
Ethan's Origami was strategically set up so I had to pass it to get out of the store just like I'd had to pass it to get into the store. We exchanged smiles and I, once again, told him thanks. Do you think he could see 'guilty' written all over my face? Guilty of negligence, of carelessness, of worrying more about food and drink for my physical body than a small item that had touched me deeper than the pit of my stomach? I was almost past the table when Ethan reached out to me. "Actually", he says while looking towards his mug of bookmarks, "I think you dropped your bookmark." Ethan is smiling. Does he know how not to?
Again, my eyes got teary. "I did lose it. And I've looked all over." Ethan fumbles around in his mug and eventually picks the exact bookmark I had previously selected. He hands it to me and says, "A person found it and brought it to me . . . thought someone had dropped it." Smiles. Again I thanked him - profusely, promising myself I would be more careful, more vigilant, more aware of the silent, invisible theives that I allow to steal precious things from me.
I firmly believe information, knowledge, experiences, opportunities, etc., etc., and especially people, come into my life for a reason. I'm learning that the reason does not necessarily coincide with current events in my life. Heavenly Father knows me from the beginning to the end and I believe He places these little spotlights of time at moments when I may not understand my specific need for them but I am at a point where I am open enough and receptive enough that they stay in my memory for when I do need them. How can I say what I'm feeling?
Except that, even though I don't know Ethan, he's in my life for a reason. And I hope I never allow the image of his smiles and his dancing and his creased paper to be lost from my mind.