The Little Pink Ball

Sometimes I have a day that is special in its absolute normalcy. I am following my normal routine and somehow every activity is enhanced with a joyfulness that is delicious. I know these days are a blessing from God and are given to us as encouragement and a reminder of his gifts. This happened to me yesterday.

I had a late start getting the baby and myself ready to go food shopping. The telephone rang and it was a relative I had not heard from for a long time. I was delighted to hear from her, and we talked for a while. We complained about how long it takes to go food shopping, but remembered to be thankful we had enough to eat.

I dressed the baby in a pink crocheted dress that had been mine as a baby, and that my second daughter had also worn. Now too short to be worn as a dress, I paired it with a pair of jeans and sweet little cranberry shoes. She looked absolutely adorable!

I had two certificates for free turkeys, as well as two “ten dollars off” coupons, so I made two separate trips into the store, loading up the car to the gills. Mind you, I am not hosting Thanksgiving. We really eat that much in a week.

During my shopping, I met a mother of four with one on the way. We exchanged nice words, encouraging one another. I also ran into a lady from church, who fawned over the baby and how she had grown.

The baby had her eye on a big basket of blow-up playballs, which were on sale for 99 cents. Probably for the first time ever, I bought a toy for my child on impulse. I gave her a pink and orange swirly ball and she giggled with glee. It was a good thing I was almost done shopping, because she then started doing what babies are supposed to do with balls.

At the milk case, she threw the ball onto the floor. It bounced and rolled to an elderly gentleman, who happily bent over to pick it up and hand it to her with a smile. Now at the yogurt section, she threw it to a middle-aged woman, who also was glad to comply. Eggs, ice cream, and we were done, with a few more games of catch thrown in.

I could not have her continue this in the parking lot. At the checkout counter, she lost her ball to me and I snuck it to the cashier, instructing her to hide it. She mistook my instructions, scanned it, and started to hand it to the baby, who was still looking around on the floor for her ball. “No no, hide it!” I whispered to the young lady urgently. Now she put it in a bag and it was out of sight.

Back in the car, I returned the ball and she gave me a laugh that meant, “There it is!”

Once at home, I placed her in the house with the ball. She looked out at me through the glass storm door. Every time I came to open the door, armed loading with groceries, she threw that ball out at me.

Finally, all the bags were in. She stood up and threw her ball, walked to it, and picked it up. She had just learned to walk independently over the weekend, so this was some pretty fancy footwork for her. To me, it was the perfect picture.

I ran and got my camera. This will be one of the days to treasure in this mother’s memories of childhood.

"Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens.
This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live."
-1 Thes. 5:16-18