It can seem like our actions occur in isolation. But I have my doubts. This week a good friend dropped off a beautiful hand made ceramic tray for the Marriage Conference raffle. It is a stunner. It looked like she had put her heart into creating it. Later that day someone called to inquire whether I would offer a lap quilt for his fundraiser. In the aftermath of generosity how could I even consider saying no?

Another friend was collecting baby items for inner city mothers. She still is, should you be inclined to donate too. In her spare time she also happens to take Benjamin for walks. I looked at the gold quilt on my couch. It practically spoke to me.

"Send me! Send me!'

Last week I accidentally paid the teenager who cleans for me for two hours of work instead of one. The thought crossed my mind that I could text her and point it out. But then I decided that the windfall might morph into its own iteration of benevolence. One that I will never be able to track down. Which is kind of fun to contemplate. 

I am not the sort to put a slender treasure in a bottle and hurl it in the ocean. Besides I don't live near running water. But I can, on occasion, throw my altruistic gestures into the melee and imagine that they land softly.