Friday, September 14, 2012

Special Visits, Special Gifts

I'm really not much of a gift person.
In fact, I remember, oh too clearly, getting a dozen roses from an once upon a time suitor. "It's a nice thought, but really, they are going to die." I told my Mom.
(That comment may have been more about the suitor than the flowers.  Getting flowers from my current suitor, my husband, brings a response I don't usually share with my Mom.)
But, I digress.
Gifts just aren't my love language.
So, when my friend mentioned she was going to bring me an early birthday gift, I wasn't sure what to expect. I was definitely looking forward to her visit, however. She's young and fun, speaks English, and helps me understand Romania. 
Plus, it seems like there's this easy-chair in my heart that was made for her.

Wanting my friend to have a Romanian welcome, I put out my favorite mugs on a new-to-me serving tray (another wonderful story of another
God-sent gift), then fill a bowl with these crispy, snap lightly in your teeth and drift satisfyingly around your mouth, luscious vanilla cream rolled wafer cookies, and dig through the cabinets to find two napkins,
carried all the way from the States.

I hear my name from the gate and there she is!  We're not sure if we should do an American hug or a Romanian kiss on the cheeks, so we  fumble through both.  Into the house we clamor and then she begins.
"I wanted to get this to you before I leave for school. My mom made it."
Her Mom?  Her Mom?  Her Mom left for heaven a few short years ago, and I know
my friend's heart  still aches for her smile. 
I never expected. I never dreamed.

Each time I look at this brightly woven red and blue
God will remind me
of love.
The love of a Mom towards her family,
 a friend towards her friend,
and a God that is weaving me, with love, into this foreign land.

Maybe my love language is gifts?

                        It was meant to go here, yes??

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