A stranger may send you a vase for flowers.
This has maybe happened to you too: some friends had disappointed me and I was making it all sorts of personal, and it hurt. I asked a wise woman in my life for advice and she wondered if I could have a go at releasing my friends from my expectations and, instead, just get very clear on what I was needing (and allow myself to need it), and then, well, could I let the whole world take care of me?
(Even a stranger. Even a sunflower.)
Could I still let that count as being loved? I thought about it. I decided I could try.
And within the week, an unexpected package came in the mail (“Tangible proof of care” had been on my Needs list) with a note from my friend, Bridget: “An anonymous benefactor has donated a kind object (for you).” I unwrapped the paper to find an antique Weller vase from the 1930s. It’s creamy and smooth and beautiful and, in my hands, as I turned it around and around to admire it, I thought to myself, What is an empty vase but a promise of days with flowers to come. It felt like hope. And what I needed most.
I sat on my floor and I wept and smiled that a person I did not know and who may not know me extended themselves to me through this “kind object” (and whole-hearted Bridget) to reassure me that there would be joy again. Flowers would come after this hard winter. And everything I need will be offered.
Maybe we all have anonymous benefactors, and are each other’s… And maybe we are all more loved and more supported and more held and less alone than we know.
Carrie Klassen writes about (and sometimes photographs) things she finds beautiful. She ghost-writes for thoughtful people with something important to say at PinkElephantCreative.com, teaches writing for small business at PinkElephantAcademy.com, and she shares her own words at CarrieKlassen.com. Carrie is currently working on a series of personal essays.
Organized under living.