Sunday, July 10, 2011

thankful still

When my daughters were little girls, we camped on Salt Spring Island one summer. On one of our "drive and see what's down that road" afternoons, we happened upon a garage sale.
The day was abit worn around the edges and so was I.
My little girl had dropped to the ground and was playing as preschoolers do, intent upon some small wooden blocks, a tiny town. As we turned to leave and summoned our children, the man suddenly announced that the blocks were for sale, "fifty cents," he added.
Even then, I knew that this was because he wanted my child to have them. That he recognized that the day had been long and that my default response to a request to stay and play, or keep the blocks would have been to answer, no. He hoped to name a price that would be so low that I would never disappoint my child over it. He could have just given them as a gift, but he allowed me the opportunity to have a part in the memory, to be the giver and I must admit that looking at them makes me thankful still.

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