Two Packages

The first bulky, a red Christmas-themed padded envelope. Inside a knit shawl, green and blue and white. No note. But I know who it’s from. It’s from the woman in Ohio whose brother worshiped at my church during the last two years of his life. When he got sick and was hospitalized, she called the church and got me. She and I had long talks across his hospital bed, including one the day he died. She knows I have a daughter. The shawl is for her.

The other slim. I know what’s in it before I open it, because the return address is Lawrenceville, New Jersey. It’s the Moleskine I left behind on the mission trip last month. When I tear the package open the pen that was attached to the book where I left it on the floor tumbles out; I’d forgotten about the pen. I’m giddy with remembering it.

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