EVIDENCE OF ARI

One Sunday afternoon my husband was putting away laundry, when he came up to me with three mismatched socks.  This isn’t unusual.  Seriously, after doing laundry for nearly half a century, I still don’t understand where socks disappear to.  

We have to purchase socks almost as often as toilet paper!  Where do they go?  And worse, if my eldest does laundry, we never find evidence of socks entering the washer, because they mysteriously disappear prior to loading.

"Come on...HURRY!"

  

"I have come to the conclusion that dryer lint is the cremated remains of all my missing socks."

-so.relatable.tumbir.com

If we are fortunate to find a matching clean pair, and it actually makes it into the children’s dresser, they will disappear within the hour like Houdini; not even the FBI could find them. 

Anyhow, my husband was determined to find the matching socks, until he ran across one that was almost toddler size.  He held it up and said, “Whose is this?”  I said, “Ari’s”, and with a slight twinkle in his eye, he grinned and went back to his task to track down those socks.  Ari is our granddaughter.  She is a very precocious and beautiful bundle of joy.  Often when she comes to visit overnight, she leaves something behind.  This could be a stuffed animal, book, pony tails for her hair, tooth brush, and her socks, which is now matchless.  And she’s not even a candidate to be the prime suspect in this mystery, since she's been gone for a few weeks.  

I love running across Ari’s things, it reminds me of her smile, hugs, and never-ending request “Grandma?”  It makes me smile, it causes me to remember the earlier days when our children were small, and toys were scattered throughout the living room alongside their toddler table set.  I recall the beanbag chairs, scattered sippy cups, and endless Barney, Blues Clues, and Dora the Explorer television sessions.  I remember the squeal of giggles resonating throughout the house.

When I hold Ari’s items left behind it brings relentless joy.  It causes me to brighten up, especially when I am overwhelmed with thoughts of this sometimes very cruel world.  It brings solace to my soul.  It changes my disposition regardless of my environment.  For a moment I can forget the pain and reality of chaos in this life. Suddenly, my to-do list is on hold as I recollect.  

I am renewed with hope once again with the simplicity of a child’s belonging, reminding me of life, God’s precious creation and the happiness she brings when she lights up a room with her big bright eyes and smile.

Pondering on this I wondered, what will others think when they run across my things left behind?  Will it bring joy? Will hope find its way to their hearts?  Is integrity going to be found?  When they read my manuscripts, letters, or journals, will they be renewed in their minds?  Are they going to find evidence of God’s eternal love? 

I pray so.  

What evidence will you be leaving behind? 

 "A good character is the best tombstone. Those who loved you and were helped by you will remember you when forget-me-nots have withered. Carve your name on hearts, not on marble."  -Charles Spurgeon

Brenda A. Graff
Founder of Food For Soul Magazine

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