Grace

I remember it like it happened two hours ago, but it was more than a dozen years ago. Working in a bookstore, mired in some kind of a funk, and then out of nowhere, a woman walked by me perched at the register, on her way out of the store. Trailing her was a little girl, maybe six or seven, lost in her own world, not rushing to keep up with her mother. With no acknowledgment of my presence, just as she passed me, oblivious to everything in the world outside of herself, the little girl jumped up, executed some quick ballerina move, landed and kept on walking out the door. Instantly my blues evaporated, and I smiled deeply, in gratitude more than anything. A moment of grace indeed.

Similarly, the last two days have been long, tense slogs at work, but both days, from totally unexpected directions, appeared a couple small moments of grace, nothing as magical as a little ballerina in the middle of a mall, just smiles and nice words, but each helped light up a couple of dim days. 

It makes no sense. You can spend days, weeks, searching for a little grace, and nothing. Other days, just when you seem to need it the most, grace abounds. Gracious me.

The Dillards-Somebody Touched Me