It's almost here...

Last week I joked with a colleague that I was thinking of trying sell my empathy and compassion believing that maybe if I could get a few coins for them I could at least feel like they were worth something.  "Well used, sold as is at buyers risk.  No warranty implied or given", I suggested.  It reminded me of that old "Simpson's" episode where the church doors are frozen shut, captivating the congregation after the service.  Reverend Lovejoy suggests he read the church bulletin to pass the time:

"For sale, one card table.  Top ripped, missing one leg, otherwise fine.  $1.00, or best offer."

It was just one of those days where a job with tangible, calculable results looked mighty tempting.  I often say that I would have done a terrible job operating a horse and plow, often looking back with one hand at the controls.

And then today is one of those days where you feel incredible lucky to have the brief interactions with good, broken people that other folks miss out on.

You recall Amber, the window jumping friend of mine?  If not you can read it here.  I was walking through the Uturn apartment building, catching who I could and reminding them of the office closure as well as making sure they had our number in case of an emergency.  I went to Amber's apartment and chatted briefly and then asked if I could see her stool.

Amber had been working on a stool for months, often frustrated because she couldn't quite get it "right".  The recipient was her 5 year old daughter who Amber hasn't seen for almost 2 years.  She lives with a foster family and while Amber has some contact through them (mainly letters and emails) she isn't allowed visitation until she can show she is more stable, something that is elusive.  She had been planning on giving her daughter a hand-painted stool for quite some time and last week Amber reported it was complete.

When I saw it I came close to tearing up.  "It's beautiful, Amber.  She's going to really like it.  Are you happy with it?",  I asked.

"Yeah, Wayne.  I really am."

Amber doesn't have a lot of cash, and unfortunately none of it gets used for much beyond a little food and too much of other things.   Amber loves her daughter and I think it comes out in the moon's eyes.  She worked very hard on that, just to get it right.  Just like so many good moms do when they make their kids birthday cakes, Halloween outfits and cookies for the bake sale.

That stool wasn't new or nice.  It was really a piece of crap.  Amber worked her magic and changed it into something remarkable, a real show stealer in my opinion.  And she did it with devotion and a tremendous amount of love.  Essential components of a great mom.

Christmas is almost here and I love it.  I've been working, spinning a Bill Mallonee track called "To Reach Out to Me."  Captures the message of Christmas and the Gospel story well.  I guess the reason that stool makes me teary was because I'm excited about Christmas, about seeing my kids open their gifts and the expressions of thankfulness and wonder.  I wish that Amber could experience the same.  She won't get to see her daughter's face when she sees that beautiful stool.  I pray that her daughter will get some sort of sense how much Amber misses her and how much love saturates that work of art.  And maybe, just maybe with a bundle of hard work, good fortune, and miraculous signs and wonders Amber will be able to join her daughter next year.

Ya gotta Hope folks.  Otherwise I might as well hit "submit" on my classified listing.

Do me a favor and hold your kids, your loved ones and your lover extra long on Christmas Day.  Nuzzle in close, whisper "I love you" and allow yourself to embrace and also feel the sense of being embraced because there just isn't anything better.