Charmed, I'm Sure!

The bracelet was supposed to have been a Christmas gift from my husband this year.  He never really gave me that kind of thing, unless you count a few pairs of beautiful hand-tied earrings he made while we were dating.  (I wasn't sure what to do with those after he asked for the divorce.  I didn't want to wear them, but I didn't really want to give them back.  I compromised.  I decided to keep them for my daughter. . . they will be something special for her from him.)

This year, I had decided it was time for some jewelry, and I wanted a Persona bangle.  I pretty much demanded a Persona bangle.  It was pretty, and I could ask for charms that meant something special to me.  I was excited. 

I went through the booklets of charms and circled the "Mrs." dangle, blue mottled stones that reminded me of the ocean, charms for my kids . . . all kinds of charms. 

Then, two weeks before Christmas, I found out he wanted a divorce.  Did I still want the bracelet?  WHAT?  NO, I most certainly did NOT want the bracelet.  But that wasn't quite true.  I did want the bracelet . . . I just didn't want it from him. 

So, I tallied up money I'd been given for my birthday, and I had enough to cover a bracelet and three charms.  So what would I get? 

First, I selected a frog wearing a crown for my frog-prince, my Ranita, as I call him.  As an infant he used to curl up on my chest with his legs and arms tucked under him like a little frog, so the name stuck.  Then I picked a ladybug for my Chinchita, "my little bug," because she's, well, cute as a bug in a rug. 

The final charm rests between those two. . . three footprints and an inscription that says, "When you saw one set of foot prints . . . it was then that I carried you" from the poem "Footprints."  Either of my children can tell you that one stands for God carrying us. 

That bracelet means an awful lot to me.  I tell my little ones it's because I can carry them with me wherever I go.  My kids take it to heart.  More than once I have left the house in a hurry and have forgotten to put it on.  I usually notice it in the car, backing out of the driveway.  Ranita tells me, "Don't worry, Mom.  You don't need it . . . we're here with you!" 

I always smile, proud of his innocent insight, and say, "You are absolutely right!  And you are better than any bracelet!" 

This morning, he used it in a different way.  I was struggling with the carpet cleaner my in-laws graciously gave us (one day I'll write a blog about their generosity . . . I sure can't list it all in an aside!).  For some reason I could get the attachment to work, but the foot wouldn't, no matter how many times I switched it to "Floor."  Since Chinchita had managed to get poop on the carpet this morning (don't ask me how; I still have no idea!), I really needed to clean the carpet. 

So I took apart the pieces I could, cleaned them out, and still couldn't get it to work.  Then I did the most productive thing possible: I sat on the floor and cried.  Suddenly I felt a small hand on my back.  My little Frog-Prince stood there holding my bracelet.  "Here, Mom," he said, "I wanted to give you this because I know it makes you happy." 

Sweet child! 

He got a big hug.  I dried my eyes (slowly!), and thanked him for being so thoughtful.  (I did have him put the bracelet back because I didn't think wrestling with the machine was the best thing for my treasure!) 

Somewhere along the line the carpet got washed.  I did much of it using the tool, but then somehow it seemed as if the foot started working . . . I don't know.  The carpet got wet, then it got drier, and the clean water ended up dirty.  The carpet both looks and smells clean.  Sometimes that's all I need to know! 

Well, that and the fact that God really is carrying me.  And sometimes He uses my children to do it. He's carrying them as well.  And sometimes He uses me to do that.  Today he also threw in my mom and my sister . . . and my in-laws, though they probably don't know it. 

Days can be hard.  Some days are really hard.  But it is comforting to remember we never have to navigate them alone . . . whether we're wearing a shiny silver bangle or not.