REFLECTIONS: Lone sheep, angel are always moving
These sit on a stereo speaker near the large picture window at the front of our house.
I love the little sheep, and surely the little angel.
I’m not sure where I bought either, but I’ve been known in my past to spend a lot of time browsing and buying basket loads of goodies every time I walked into the likes of a Goodwill or Love Inc, Salvation Army and others.
I’d hit the brakes when I’d see their sign be it in a town nearby or one I’d never been in maybe 400 miles away.
If I ever went out of the country, I’d probably learn rapidly to read foreign languages so I could hunt down my discount stores.
Same way at flea markets. Yard sales. Garage sales. Even pulled into a place one time, expecting to browse and soon learned I’d misread the sign. The barn WAS for sale. And so was the house.
I thanked the folks who lived there, then they insisted that I just come over where they were in the shade and have some iced tea. Did that.
I left there sorry they were moving.
When I wander into the living room to ponder by the window, watch the birds, see the sunrise, or wait for the sun to set, I often glance around and watch warm shadows cast on living room walls as the winter sun begins to wander its way back northward in early spring.
Or the dreary, tired shadows as it begins its trek south in the winter.
Either way, I enjoy the time to wander and ponder.
Then it is that I glance around the living room and on into the dining room with a sort of sweeping glance. Sometimes I marvel how nice it looks. Things put back where they belong. Even the blanket folded and back on the back of the recliner after someone, uhmmm, took a bit of a nap.
Usually, if I’m home alone for a bit, I turn music on low and listen, or open a window and hear birds saying their good nights, or a car driving by, or the wind howling as it is this January day.
Usually as well, my glance will catch a glimpse of the little angel and the lamb standing together there on the stereo speaker. Sometimes they are right where I had left them the time before, but other times they appear to have moved.
Strange, I know. But it seems so. Sometimes a bit closer together. Other times a bit farther apart. Usually, after I’ve opened the curtains or my hubby has shut them at night or a grandchild has been by or stayed for a time.
But other times? Hmmm. Other times, it appears they have been moving about. Perhaps the little angel is far too close to the edge I think, and the lamb has its head in front of its shoulder as though to prevent an angel so small its wings may not be strong enough to catch it.
And I grin. And walk away.
Go about my doing, and when I return, it seems they have gone about their straying. The curtain is amiss, and I wonder, did they move it or did the curtain sweep past them and move them about in its wake. It is a heavy curtain, after all.
So I smile, and forget about it. Until next time.
When no one has been to visit, the curtain kept closed to prevent the howling wind from making the room feel colder, and then, I walk in, and sit to read. Notice then something on the floor. Over there, and so I get up to ponder and wander, and see the little angel standing upright on the carpet. The sheep still above peering over the stereo’s ledge.
And I wonder, “a push or a jump or a dare or for fun?” Pick it up. Smile. Put it back. And somehow, carry it around as a thought in my mind and a gentleness in my soul for days on end.
May you have a moment in time you can borrow to remind.