BEING RICH
We prowled
through the second hand bookstore the day after Christmas,
just my husband Louie, our daughters, Jenny and Helen, and me.
This was a precious time for us.
We would be splitting up as a family in just a couple of days.
It had been a tough eight months since my husband had retired from the
Navy. We hated every good-bye, so we had manipulated the military system
while on active duty, preventing some.
Now, we were retired, and we were eight months into our longest
separation.
We assured one another of our love, and
we clung to our faith that this separation would soon come to an end.
Military families
seem to fall into two categories:
those who look for affectionate opportunities,
and those who avoid close contact, because “good-byes” are painful.
In our military career, we had become painfully aware
that anything can happen during the briefest separation.
We were shocked to discover that the only job available for Louie,
after retirement was in the city of Norfolk, Virginia.
Our dream was to live out the rest of our lives in the mountains
of southwestern Virginia, six-and-a-half hours away.
My asthma had gotten so bad, that it was impossible for me
to stay with Louie in the city.
We had finally settled for a separation, praying that a job would become
available in the beautiful region that we love.
There we were,
the day after Christmas, delaying another departure
by passing time in a second hand bookstore,
before the girls and I headed back to southwest Virginia.
We were as broke as we’d ever been, with Louie supporting two households.
Even so, we were thankful for every moment together, and we seized upon
every opportunity for extra hugs, shared daydreams and laughter.
Besides the
proprietor, there was only one other person in the bookstore,
a lovely, well-dressed woman, about my age.
I noticed her costly clothes, her shoes, and her expensive handbag.
I wondered what it would be like, to be rich enough to walk into a
bookstore
and have the money to buy any book my heart desired.
We were having so much fun, however, that I quickly forgot the woman.
We joked as we
continued our treasure hunt, clutching our spending money
of five dollars apiece, all hoping to be the first to find the oldest,
least expensive book. It was a bitter-sweet excursion. Frequently Louie
and I would brush past one another, finding excuses to touch or to give
one another’s hand an extra squeeze. Jenny remembered that there was an
ATM machine not far from the bookstore, and she decided that she needed
another twenty dollars that she had squirreled away.
“No fair!” I
cried, laughing. “The rest of us can only spend five dollars,
and here you’re going to have twenty-five dollars?!”
We all laughed, and we began to tease Jenny mercilessly,
but she was able to convince her Dad that she must have that twenty
dollars,
in order to get that irresistible book.
“Come on, Jenny,”
Louie laughed. “I’ll drive you to the ATM.”
Then we did another round of hugging and kissing,
not wanting to be apart for even a few minutes.
It must have been a curious ballet, this emotional family scene,
but we were oblivious to what others might think.
Unmindful of the impression we made,
we continued to give kisses and hugs all around.
I have to admit that we are a “huggy-kissy” family, so looking back,
I realize how odd we must have appeared.
Finally, in
between another hug and kiss, I spied my perfect book!
It was a hundred years old, and it was on my favorite time period,
the Middle Ages. Oh, how I wanted that book!
I quickly checked the inside cover for the price, and my heart fell.
It was twenty-five dollars! We just didn’t have it.
I looked up at Louie, already knowing the answer.
He must have wanted me to have that book, because
I could see the pain in his eyes. Louie reached out and gave me an extra
hug.
I understood his “honey, we just can’t afford it” message,
so I leaned into his sheltering arms.
I couldn’t help but notice that the well dressed lady
was touching the book that I wanted. Ah well, let her have it.
I gave Louie an extra hug.
“Oooohh, I wish I
were rich,” I murmured, as my eyes locked with the woman’s.
“It looks to me,
as though you already are.” She said, with a smile.
There was a pause
that stretched through eternity,
and my heart filled with comprehension.
I looked up at my husband, and I gazed at my daughters,
wrapped as we were in the arms of love, and I knew it.
I was rich. Very rich.
I quickly turned to thank the woman for her gentle reminder,
but she was gone!
Who was she? I
don’t know, but what she did for my outlook
was nothing short of miraculous. I will never forget her.
Where did she disappear to? I can’t say.
Strangely enough, within days my husband received a job offer
in southwestern Virginia.
In less than two weeks, he was hired
and we moved to the place that is now our home.
The job notice had been sent out two days before Christmas.
So, even as we hugged and kissed; even as I wished;
even as I heard the words,
“It looks to me, as though you already are,”
events were already in motion to reunite our family.
I am quite
certain that it was all part of God’s plan
to remind me of what being “rich” is all about
…faith, love, family, and friends.
When I get to heaven, I will not be at all surprised to discover
that God sent an angel to a second hand bookstore,
to give me this rich message, the day after Christmas, not so long ago.
© Jaye
Lewis, 2001
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