being rich

A True Story by Jaye Lewis - used with
permission
We prowled through the second hand bookstore,
the day after Christmas, just my husband, Louie,
our daughters, Jenny and Helen, and me. This
was a precious time for us, because we would be
splitting up as a family, again, in just a couple of
days.
It had been a tough eight months since my
husband had retired from the Navy. As plotters
and planners, we had manipulated the "military
system," while on active duty, as much as we
could, trying to prevent a long, dreaded absence
from one another. Now, here we were, retired, and
we were eight months into our longest
separation.
When my husband retired, we discovered that the
only job available for him was in the city of
Norfolk, Virginia. Our dream was to live out the
rest of our lives in the mountains of southwestern
Virginia, six and a half hours away. My health had
gotten so bad, that it was impossible for me to
stay with Louie in the city. We had settled for a
separation, praying that a job would become
available in the beautiful region that we love.
So, there we were, delaying the inevitable,
passing time in a second hand bookstore, before
the girls and I headed back to southwest Virginia.
We were as broke as we'd ever been, supporting
two households; yet we were grateful to be
together, and we seized every opportunity for
extra hugs, shared daydreams and laughter.
There was only one other person in the bookstore,
besides the proprietor, a lovely, well-dressed,
woman, about my age. I noticed her clothes, her
shoes, and her expensive handbag, and I
wondered what it would be like, to be rich enough
to walk into a bookstore and have the money to
buy any book my heart desired. But we were
having so much fun, that I quickly forgot the
woman.
We joked as we continued our treasure hunt,
clutching our spending money of five dollars
apiece, all hoping to be the first to find the oldest,
least expensive book. It was a bittersweet
excursion. Frequently Louie and I would brush
past one another, finding excuses to touch or to
give on another's hand an extra squeeze.
Jenny remembered, that there was an ATM
machine, not far from the bookstore, and she
decided that she needed another twenty dollars
that she had squirreled away.
"No fair!" I cried, laughing. "The rest of us can
only spend five dollars, and here you're going to
have twenty-five dollars?!"
We all laughed, and we began to tease Jenny,
mercilessly, but she was able to convince her Dad
that she must have the $20, in order to get that
irresistible book.
"Come on, Jenny," Louie laughed. "I'll drive you to
the ATM."
Then we did another round of hugging and
kissing, none of us wanting to be apart for even a
few minutes.
Soon Louie and I would be saying "good-bye."
We couldn't resist the opportunity to assure one
another of our love, and our faith that our
separation would soon come to an end. It must
have been a curious ballet, this demonstrative
family scene, but we were oblivious to what
others might think.
Military families seem to fall into two categories:
those who look for affectionate opportunities, and
those who avoid close contact, because "good-
byes" are painful. I have to admit that we're a
pretty "huggy-kissy" family, so unmindful of
anyone else, we continued to give kisses and
hugs all around. In our military career, we had
become painfully aware, that anything can happen
during even the briefest separation. But now, as I
look back, I realize how odd me must have
looked.
Finally, in between another hug and kiss, I saw
the perfect book for me! It was one hundred years
old, and it was on my favorite time period, the
Middle Ages. Oh, how I wanted that book! I
quickly checked the inside cover for the price, and
my heart fell. It was twenty-five dollars! We just
didn't have it. I looked up at Louie, already
knowing the answer.
He must have wanted me to have that book. I
could see the pain in his eyes. Louie reached out
and gave me an extra hug. I understood his
"honey, we just can't afford it" message. I leaned
into his sheltering arms, and I saw that the well-
dressed lady was also touching the book that I
wanted. Ah well, let her have it. I gave Louie and
extra hug, and half serious, I murmured, as my
eyes locked with hers.
"Oooohh, I wish I were rich!"
"It looks to me, as though you already are," she
said with a smile.
There was a pause that stretched through
eternity, and my heart filled with comprehension. I
looked up at my husband, and I gazed at my
daughters, wrapped as we were in the arms of
love, and I knew it. I was rich. Very rich. I quickly
turned to thank the woman for her gentle
reminder, but she was gone!
Who was she? I'll never know. But what she did
for my outlook, was nothing short of miraculous. I
will never forget her. Where did she disappear to?
I can't say.
Strangely enough, within days, my husband
received a job offer in southwestern Virginia. In
less than two weeks, he was hired and we moved
to the place that is now our home. The job notice
had been sent out two days before Christmas,
even as we hugged and kissed and wished in that
bookstore. Even as I heard the words, "It looks to
me, as though you already are," events were
already in motion to unite our family.
I am quite certain that it was all part of God's
plan, to remind me of what being "rich" is all
about... faith, love, family, and friends. And when
I get to heaven, I will not be at all surprised to
discover that God sent an angel to a second hand
bookstore, in Norfolk, Virginia, to give me his
richest message, the day after Christmas, many
years ago.
© Jaye Lewis, 2003 -- Used with permission from
author
-----
Jaye Lewis is a writer and poet, who lives with
her family in the Appalachian Mountains of
southwestern Virginia. This story will be included
in Jaye's forthcoming book, entitled "Entertaining
Angels."