Feathers, Hotwheels and Army Men

I began a new bible study at my church this morning.  It was the first time we met for the new fall semester.  Women of all ages, shapes and sizes piled into a room. We all munched around on yummy breakfast foods and coffee before we split up to go our separate ways for our studies.  While I was sitting there enjoying my cinnamon roll...and pastry...and muffin...and fruit (ahhh..yes, the fruit! The only redeeming factor to my plate of carbs), I noticed the lady standing in front of me.  She was chatting it up with someone, whom I assume, she'd been missing for awhile. They were having a good ol' time.  Then I noticed something... sticking up from the top of the back pocket of her jeans was a feather. A feather!  Not any kind of spectacular feather.  Just an ordinary run-of-the-mill grey bird feather.  I pondered for about a half a second and then it hit me...she's a mom!  She's a mom who, on her way out the door with her arm-load of kiddos, stopped for a moment to gush over a feather with her youngster who was stopped dead in his tracks by the wonder of it.

I can't tell you how many times this has happened to me.  Why, just today, my son was so proud over his discovery of a locust!  He brought it in the house to show me.  Placed it ever so gently on the carpet and proceeded to smash it.  You see..some choose to marvel over it and some absolutely must demolish it.

I know that at any given moment my purse/pocket/bag will consist of an assortment of items that I will not need EVER but absolutely MUST go with us!  The yellow car (not just any yellow car...it must be the one that has the doors that open and has the blue lightning bolt on the side), the army man, the bubble wand or the wrapper from a Reese's cup (they're shiny and, therefore, cannot be thrown away).  All these things make it in the "carry on" because it's just easier to say "okay!  Just put it here and we'll take it with us" than it is to try and reason with the child.

And when I stumble across these items while I'm fumbling around looking for my keys, I think of my babies.  I remember when I put it in there.  By the time I've found it, my son has already forgotten that he had given it to me.  And I suppose it's really just there to make me smile.

So, the next time you're reaching under the carseat chasing after that runaway quarter that slipped through your fingers and you come upon a marble or a water gun, take a moment to think about the reason it's there.  Or, better yet, take a moment to pray for the one you think of the moment you find it.