"Do something good with this." To Mom. This was one of four such envelopes containing some money of his own, placed in hidden places by my 10-year-old. Each one was addressed to a different member of the family, including the brother he fights with the most, "even though he didn't deserve it".
My envelope held $2.00 in quarters. This from a boy who will do anything for $2.00. I actually just opened it this morning to examine the contents, for the sake of this post. It has been too precious to disturb til now.
When I asked my son what prompted this unexpected and generous action, he told me that it was an idea from a book.
A book he received two years ago for his First Communion that only this summer's boredom inspired him to open. A book I'm positive has long been forgotten by those who gave it, one of whom is no longer here to give.
Forgotten good.
But, not on June 13th.
Fourth of July rolled around and my sister's mother-in-law pulled me aside. (We normally laugh about her stint working at a library where she never actually worked, except in my mind, in which case she worked there for years, and which I repeatedly asked her about when I saw her!)
Only this time, she let me know in all seriousness how appreciative she was of a note I wrote her years ago on November 27, 2012. A note which holds an esteemed place in her Bible with few other things so precious. Whaaaa?
Of course, I didn't remember the note, much less the contents. She sent me a picture to jog my memory and I was very glad that I had, indeed, written such a note. I was also pretty sure I was smarter when I wrote it than I am now.
Forgotten good.
During my time at home, I visited the Chamber of Commerce of my hometown, asking after a poster advertising their famous fireworks. The overworked lady said they were all posted, with none to give now, but took my name and address down on a post-it note with a promise to send one after the Fourth, when things settled down.
I'd forgotten my request by the day's end until just a few days ago when I received it in the mail. And now, I will remember her kindness always as it hangs on my wall, when she will have long forgotten it.
Forgotten good.
A couple of days ago, at the bedside of a woman leaving this life, her friends and family shared stories of what they loved about her, including her love of shopping.
Among her purchases was a cross which currently hangs in her friend's home. It was surreptitiously bought on a trip they took together. The friend fell in love with it, but left it unpurchased. When they arrived back home, the woman pulled it out of her suitcase and gave it to her. She was dumbfounded and overjoyed, and cherishes it still. Maybe now more than ever.
Among her purchases was a cross which currently hangs in her friend's home. It was surreptitiously bought on a trip they took together. The friend fell in love with it, but left it unpurchased. When they arrived back home, the woman pulled it out of her suitcase and gave it to her. She was dumbfounded and overjoyed, and cherishes it still. Maybe now more than ever.
The story went uncorroborated by the giver, who could no longer say. But if I had to guess, probably forgotten.
When our earthly life comes to a close and a future is no longer available, the past becomes a treasury to be exhausted. And I can't help but wonder if one of the many joys of heaven is a great remembering of the forgotten good.
