On the way to work I decided to stop and pick some daffodils for a friend. She's not only a friend, but a relative. Couldn't really tell you how exactly we are related, by marriage. Doesn't seem to matter. I have felt our friendship deepen over the years. Deepness that comes from the ability to sense broken takes the heart to a whole new level. She has stood at the grave of both parents and her brother. Her face shows sorrow through her faith. Grief, profitable to bring one closer to the Maker.
I put my small little bundle of flowers in a vase when I got to work. I had a sense of accomplishment that is felt when I follow through with something that has been put on my heart. Yes. This will be good. I planned to take a short break and deliver my heartfeltness.
Glancing up from the task at hand, one of our teachers came in the front door carrying a large tub of the most incredible springiness. She headed for my office. "Here, those look heavy. Do you need some help?" At that point I realized that she was delivering, not bypassing. I cleared a spot on my desk. She placed this amazing color in the cleared spot. Handing me a card, she told me these flowers were for me. "Me?" "Yep!"
Really. I should have cried. But these days my tears come only when they want to.
The teachers from our adult school program had lovingly given me these flowers because they knew that March was tough and going on is tougher. The card expressed a sweet spirit of friendship, hope and love.
I thought it amazing that on a day I stopped to pick spring flowers for a grieving friend, I was presented with a gift intended to fill my vessel and bring a smile to my heart. Reminds me that Jesus loves me and attends to even the small details of my day.
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