There are times when I look for a sign. I'm not talking about road names, though they are helpful too. I mean indicators that I am headed in the right direction, or that Someone is watching over me. 

 

Recently a friend said that she had seen my mother in a meditation. Mom smiled at her and offered a pink ribbon. It seemed important that the message reach me, and so my friend went out on a limb to relay it. I am holding it close. At this juncture in Benjamin's life I am especially cognizant of the need for guidance. 

 

I read a story in one of my Chicken Soup books about a woman who was going though a rough time. She took a menial job because finances were wobbly. Five days a week she vacuumed the apartment building where they lived, hauling the heavy vacuum up and down three flights of stairs. She felt depleted, and asked for a message from God. It could have been called a prayer, but really it was more along the lines of a tirade. 

 

At the end of the last floor she looked down, and there in the corner was a shiny penny. It sparkled to her, and she bent down to pick it up. It caught her attention, but then again it was pretty measly as missives go. The next day she was plodding through the routine, when she saw another penny. She paused to retrieve it, and her spirits lifted just a mite as well. Each day, for several weeks, a penny showed up. Never more than one. Just a single modest reminder that her life was of value. At least that is what it came to mean to her. 

 

Money problems eased up, and she no longer needed the part time job. Or the pennies. She stopped looking for them, and coincidentally they stopped appearing. 

 

It reminds me of the way the Children of Israel stooped down each morning to gather manna from the ground. It takes humility to lean, and that seems like the antecedent to many of God's answers. At least to me.