Friday, November 7, 2014

   For 18 years I have gone to one particular Christmas Craft Show here in Virginia.  Three huge buildings that hold handmade Christmas decorations and more options for Christmas gifts than I can fathom.  The moment I walk in I am greeted by aromas of fresh baked goods, almonds cooked in cinnamon and the sounds of Christmas music floating on the air like clouds.  The population includes women dressed in interesting (I didn't say ugly) Christmas sweaters, women with babies in strollers (always watch for your ankles), men who wait patiently for their wives to finish shopping (special place in heaven for those gents),  and occasionally a woman strolling with a small dog like it's an accessory.
   Today I got to go with a friend whose laughter bubbles out of her with such joy you must laugh with her.  A woman with a heart of gold who loves her friends with such passion you never doubt how she feels about you. 
   We oohed and ahhhed over many of the booths and displays. We purchased and tasted and purchased and tasted.
   As we came down the aisle to this one booth on the corner, we both saw the leather bound books and stopped.  I was mesmerized by the look of each book.  By the smell of the rawhide.  By the feel of the engravings.  And then I opened one up and found that they were full of handmade paper.  Some pages even had specks of grass and wildflowers embedded within the fiber.  I thought I had found a piece of heaven.  And then, I panicked.  I quickly put one of the gems back down and turned to my friend and just told her to WALK!  "WALK AWAY", I thought before you buy one of these. There were gifts to buy for others.  Many gifts.  I had already spent money on myself earlier.  I couldn't buy myself two things. 
But my girlfriend didn't see my inward struggle of worth.  She saw the treasure in my hand.  She saw me writing in it at the beach, in the mountains, on my back deck.....she saw me writing everywhere.  She took it upon herself to ignore my firm command to walk away from the booth of leather goodness.  And then had the audacity to ask to vendor how much? 
   I moved in and began to fondle...yes fondle, these beauties.  The vendor, being a good salesman, picked one up and handed it to me...."Here is one with the tree of life."  I was sold.  Rather, the book was sold.
   I am now the proud owner of a genuine leather, handcrafted journal with handmade paper.  I am thrilled.  But mostly, I am thankful.  I am thankful that I had a friend with me who knew what I needed more than I did and who nudged me in the right direction.
   I love you, Robin.  Thank you.


  1. I am glad our friend was there to ignore your inward struggle! I think it's a perfect gift for you too!! XOXOXO

    1. Thanks friend...I was too. All kind of unworthy thoughts were jumping on me! But truth prevailed and I bought it despite myself!

  2. That's what friendship is all about.
    The journal is beautiful.
    It's the perfect gift for one who's words are finding their way back to the page.
    Write on my friend, write on.

    1. That is what friends are for....helping you believe in yourself.