On Thanksgiving morning, I wrote a short but heartfelt Facebook post expressing my gratitude for my little Sofi, my 13 year old Yorkie who passed away on September 22nd. Just after writing the post, I took Miki, my other fur baby, for his daily walk. It was a beautiful day — sunny, no wind. Halfway through our stroll, out of the corner of my eye, I caught something moving toward us across the black pavement. Given the speed and precision of its movement in our direction, I initially thought it might be a small animal, perhaps a light-colored gecko. When I turned to take a closer look, it became clear it wasn’t an animal for it moved with the lightness of a piece of paper or small candy wrapper. I wasn’t able to fully make out what it was before it rolled underneath Miki’s front paws and stopped in front him. Miki, of course, picked it up with his snout but quickly dropped it after realizing it was not a candy wrapper. As Miki continued on his path, the small, paper-like object moved slightly to the side, bumping into one of the river rocks lining the perimeter of the yard we were walking past. I continued behind Miki for about 5 steps before stopping to take a second look at the object to figure out what it was. In that windless moment, it rolled the distance of those 5 steps toward my sneakers. When I bent down to grab it, I realized it was a small, off-white, stemless flower. I looked around to see what tree or flower shrub it had fallen off of but couldn’t find anything, at least not in any of the houses visible from where I stood.
The deep-seated skeptic and cynic in me would have never written this personal narrative publicly a few years back. But age has had its way with me and everyday I’m delighted to see how the fear of feeling foolish and the jaded walls I put up during adolescence and early adulthood (because, of course, I wanted to seem blasé and all-knowing) are slowly crumbling and giving way to a willingness to wholeheartedly believe again. This morning, I checked on my little Sofi-flower now sitting in a shot glass on my kitchen shelf. 7 whole days, stemless and waterless and she’s still holding up beautifully. I think there really are bits and pieces of miracles everywhere around us. If only we were brave enough to get over ourselves and actually see them.