We were out in Suffolk county (no overpopulation) and my wife asked me for some money at a large farm stand. Having had a more carefree youth than she, I was on a jag to make it all up to her. “What hanging basket would you like?” she generously asked. I pointed to a white pot of maroon and white-faced pansies. There was yellow in there too. She went in and came out with a sales clerk to indicate the desired pot.
It was spring, and our whole universe was breaking out in the joyful wonder of rebirth. I couldn’t help but believe I’d see this woman again where she was the richest woman in half a galaxy. She drove all the way home, and I was able to save her from rear-ending a truck in a moment of inattention.
We receive and we give. It is the story of spring and resurrection. It is the story of life.