Journey of Quilting

choosing the right sacrifice...

giving more... like I promised, myself I would do, has been harder than I anticipated
which makes me realize that was the right choice this season of Lent
it's like having a child who hates broccoli say he's giving up broccoli... it's not much of a sacrifice is it
when we sacrfice... now that is something when knowledge is gained when we starve ourselves from something we crave... that is when the lessons are learned

what do you we own here on Earth that is really deeply worthy?
the gift of ourselves
the best thing about this gift of self is that we are thinking of them, not us we can give them a custom gift of exactly what they need... a shoulder to lean on... a strong hand to pull them up... a whole belly chuckle

— there is this couple... whom Jason and I have had the privilege to meet back a few sales ago now... Harold and his beautiful wife Cathleen... we were standing there shootin' the breeze in the horse barn about farm life, family, faith, kids, antiques, marriage, hogs... and sitting right next to Harold and I was a gorgeous mint condition typewriter...
I had been wanting one for quite some time... and it was actually my mother in laws (she owns an antiques store in Geneva... this was not a family heirloom)... and Harold looks over at that typewriter and says "well looky there... that is a beauty... I'll take that"
oh man I thought — how lucky he was! — why didn't I set it aside when I had the chance??
I almost begrudgedly closed the case it was in, with original paperwork mind you, in all it's beautiful splendor up to the checkout counter for him...
Harold then went on to explain how he is a writer (which kind of helped me a bit to know it was going to somewhere it would be respected) if my memory serves me right, there was something about the initials on the case that was even significant (forgive me if I'm wrong you two)

that was not a sacrifice on my part... it wasn't mine... it was the one that got away...

time passed, and seasons changed... and when Harold and I would see eachother at the flea market we'd tease eachother about it... jokingly of course...

then this past October came

busy with selling cupcakes and greeting visitors I looked up and saw them coming to the sale... eager to say hello through the crowds, I went right up to them...
they were holding the typewriter
in the box
with a big ol' bow on the top

for me...

Harold explained how he couldn't type on it... how it just never felt right... not in the right home
through my tears of such a sweetness for their act of kindness and generosity I tried to tell them thank you... it didn't seem enough... just saying thank you
that has to be one of the nicest and most generous things anyone has ever done for me
he knew I liked it, he knows I like to write
but it was an unexpected act... expecting nothing in return that was most profound
a sacrifice for him became a gift for me, more than just something material

it will be forevered cherished Harold...

thank you.
xo + blessings,