Feel the love emanating from this bracelet!
If you doubt the impact of a single act of kindness, I invite you to keep reading.
It was time to sell several pendants that had been gifted to me some years ago. The appraiser carefully studied them before offering me $25 for the lot. He apologized for the low offer once he heard how much they’d cost the giver, who’d left the price tags on. I assured him I was happy with his offer. The pendants hadn’t been given to me with love. They had to go.
Matt, the appraiser, is a heart-centered man who’s happily married to his high school sweetheart. He’s so proud of her and their two daughters. He told me stories of men who come to him to buy the engagement rings they want their women to have, not the engagement rings their women want to have. He told me the funny excuses he used with his high school teachers to get out of doing homework, from “the dog died” to “the dog came back to life.” I was enjoying our conversation. His enormous love for life made it impossible not to enjoy spending time with him.
He told me he’s a devout Catholic. I may not have had high end jewelry to sell, but I had something even better for him. I dug through my purse to give him a coin I’d purchased from the St. Padre Pio shrine, a coin that was minted with the saint’s famous saying, “Pray, Hope, and Don’t Worry.” Some women carry perfume and a makeup bag in their purses. I carry a variety of commemorative coins to give to people who touch my heart. And yes, if you dig deep enough in my purse, you’ll find an old lipstick tube. I still carry the double x chromosome along with the coins.
It was time to leave. I thanked him for a wonderful conversation. He told me to wait, that he wanted to give me two things. I wasn’t expecting anything back. What up, Matt?
He pointed to a pile of bracelets on the counter, saying he’d just received a shipment. He invited me to select whichever one I wanted. He told me I was all heart, and he wanted to give me a heart bracelet.
I went into shock. I couldn’t speak. His generosity overwhelmed me. I asked him to select my bracelet. He considered the options, announced “The white one’s for you,” and slipped it on my wrist. That’s the bracelet in the above photo. Isn’t it gorgeous! The love coming off that bracelet is palpable. I felt it as soon as the bracelet became mine. Matt also gave me a tiny St. Anthony medal he’d purchased in Italy. Matt knows I’m not Catholic, but it doesn’t matter. I feel the love coming off the medal. I cried to receive this precious relic, and I’m wearing it now.
March is traditionally a difficult month in my life. If I told you all the painful things that have happened to me and my now-deceased family in March, you’d swear I was making it up. On a single day in March, I mark the anniversary of a family murder, my grandfather’s sudden death, my best friend’s death, and my stroke. There’s a lot more I could list, but you get the point. Matt’s bracelet and medal brought me the great, great gift of changing my perception of March. I feel real love and happiness whenever I look at the bracelet. Real love and happiness can heal so many painful perceptions.
There’s more to this story. Stay with me.
I wanted to give Matt a thank you for his great kindness to me, so I visited a store that specializes in cards and gifts that are suitable for people who are Catholic. I wanted to find something connected with St. Anthony. Nothing felt right, but I did find a really beautiful thank you card. On my way to the cashier, something made me look to my right. I saw a small children’s book entitled, “When Mom or Dad Dies: A Book of Comfort for Kids.”
You might recall from a previous post that my twelve-year-old neighbor’s father suddenly passed away six months ago. She’s having a difficult time adjusting to her loss, and I understand why that is. I suddenly lost my father when I was a teenager. I’ve been there, too. As soon as I saw that book, even before I looked through it, I knew I had to buy it for my young friend. After her mother gave me permission, I presented her with the book yesterday. I said I remembered not wanting to talk about my own loss when it happened, and I hoped the book would help her heal. She loved it. I saw her eyes light up as she read the first chapter. I haven’t seen her eyes light up in weeks. She hugged me, I told her I love her very much, and we had a lovely moment together, a moment that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been shopping for a thank you for Matt.
Let’s return to the religious store for a moment. I know Joyce, the store’s owner. She told me the man who was working behind the register that day is a deacon at his church. I’d bought several of the St. Padre Pio coins, and Joyce asked if I’d like the deacon to bless them. You bet I would! He sprinkled them with holy water, said a prayer, and handed them to me. I look forward to giving the blessed coins away when the time is right.
As I was leaving the store, I realized I wasn’t quite done. I asked the deacon if he would bless my dog. She was waiting in my car and hadn’t been feeling well lately. He asked me to wait a moment, that he’d be happy to bless her after he finished what he was doing. I told him I’d bring her out of the car. He said it would be fine for her to stay where she was. He blessed her as he’d blessed the coins, asking for St. Francis of Assisi to help her. My heart melted to see his love for animals and his appreciation for my dog.
Today, for the first time in three weeks, my dog was hungry for real food. She was done with the European-style cottage cheese called quark that I’d mixed with her supplements. She clearly wanted meat. The “what is this crap” look on her face when she looked at her next dairy meal gave her true feelings away. OK. Got it. I bought her some lean ground meat, cooked it with a little sweet potato and green beans, and she wolfed it down. Same thing happened a few hours later. She’s been jumping around tonight like a pup, which is pretty good for any dog who’s been ill but especially an old dog like Laila.
Was it the deacon’s blessing? Was it my delight at being given these two precious gifts that also lifted her spirits? Was it coincidence that she suddenly got well?
I just tell the stories. You make the call.
How many times do we consider doing something nice for someone else and then talk ourselves out of it?
This is what can happen when we say yes instead of no. Do something nice for another and see how far the kindness ripples can spread.
If you’re ready to transform your story from one of pain into one of healing, let’s see if we’re a professional match for each other. I invite you to fill out the contact form. And thanks for reading.
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