Years ago there was a woman at a carnival who had a medley of pockets. Her apron was crowded with them, and since my children were young they were fair game to be amazed. Her expression was one of those "I know something that you don't" smiles, and with a flourish she plucked out a stuffed mouse, or penny whistle. All of the kids were drawn in by the unpredictability of it all. I mean a six inch square of fabric could hide almost anything. I don't actually recall the gifts as much as the confidence of her face. She had lovely things at her fingertips, and fully expected to give them all away. What would be the point of keeping prizes, when that meant a missed opportunity to offer joy? 

 

I wonder what it was like for her as she was gathering them. Years of experience had shown her which bright trinkets ignite the biggest squeal.

 

Last week a friend gave her son his very own supply of tape. It was marvelous to be a witness to his glee as he tore open the package. Then later we got to watch him tangle his brother in twenty rounds of it, like a lasso but without the boots. I recall a few years ago when the wrapped surprise at their house was not something from the toy aisle, but rather from the grocery store. Broccoli was the main event in the unwrapping, and the climax did not disappoint. 

 

Recently we went out for coffee with a couple whose life has taken a positive turn. The medical issues, and job repercussions of a year ago have resolved as if by magic. He was almost giddy with the delight of sitting there on a winter's day, with friends, enjoying a warm cup. We chatted about spirituality, and accepting what life offers. 

 

I suspect that if I could find a way to peek, I would glimpse his Creator looking down with a myriad of pockets, each hiding a present no more costly than tape, or a latte, yet of greater worth than can be expressed in a thousand words.