I have heard it suggested that buying craft supplies and using them are two different hobbies. While I would not go so far as to suggest the same about myself and fruit, it does give me pause. The weather recently makes mangoes and bananas more inclined to skip over the part between not yet ripe and oops too late. Hence the need to keep a close eye on the bowl on the counter. Last night John made smoothies, and brought me a piece of the mango for my opinion. It was on the edge.
"Toss it in too. The berries will cover for it. It's my fault for not cutting it yesterday."
It reminded me to enjoy the sweetness readily available. Yes, it makes a pretty centerpiece to look at. But eating it is the point.
I have experienced a different hunger of late. For reassurance that goodness has not gone out of vogue. The steady diet of tragedy, and blatant cruelty hammers my trust in God. I went to the library looking for a book to get lost in. But the ones I picked had their own share of turmoil. It didn't help.
When I went home I glanced at my own bookshelves. The ones piled with my favorite reads. That I haven't opened in years.
One Thousand Gifts, Chicken Soup for the Woman's Soul, Small Miracles, Animal Miracles, Surrendering to Motherhood, Kitchen Table Wisdom, Random Acts of Kindness. Praying for Strangers.
This was nourishment I could gulp down. Story after story of generosity, trust, and God's continual blessings felt like a Thanksgiving table. It replenished my heart from the starvation created by current events.
A sea turtle lifted an exhausted swimmer up and carried him to shore. They were even joined by a smaller turtle who bit the man every time he slumped into sleep.
There was a rebellious young Jew who ridiculed his father's faith and was banished from home. He traipsed across India for a few years, until he randomly came across a neighbor from Ohio. The friend offered condolences for the death of his father. Shocked by the news and filled with remorse, the son flew to Israel to rediscover his religion. As he walked along the wailing wall he wrote a prayer asking for his father's forgiveness, and when he tried to insert it in between the
stones another small paper fell out. Overcome by the urge to open it the son saw in his father's writing his own heartfelt prayer for forgiveness.
A bird bashed against a glass door over and over to get the attention of someone to come help a woman who had fallen and lay bleeding. The woman recovered, but the bird died.
An elephant who was ambling past a woman washing her clothes in the river noticed her baby asleep in the sun. The great animal plucked a large leaf, lay it over the infant, and kept walking.
The altruism was sweeter than any Georgia peach right off the tree.
