It had been a hard-but-good, hectic-but-productive weekend. Tim and I were having Sunday lunch with our guest speaker. A small crowd of Harvest Church members took up several tables, in various spots throughout "La Fiesta", the after-church lunch haunt. It is a tiny, thoroughly Mexican restaurant, complete with staff that speak very little English. Tim and I don't go there every Sunday, as we prefer to have people to our home for lunch. That way, no one is offended if we either cannot, or do not, retain a gigantic table, and attempt to sit with them.
After lunch, I wearily walked to my mini-van. I opened the driver's door (Tim and I drive separately on Sundays) and my first indication of a wonderful surprise floated through the air - the spicey sweet, unmistakeable perfume of....ROSES! There, on the passenger seat, were a dozen of the most heavily scented pink roses I had smelled in a long, long time. And a bar of expensive chocolate. Not melted. Someone had just done it!
I looked around everywhere. We were the last (by far) to leave the restaurant. I asked Tim about them. He hadn't done it, and he was just a tiny bit perturbed, for about a minute and a half, over the thought of my getting chocolate and flowers from a mystery person. Which, I must say, seeing one's husband's eyes narrow in momentary lover's jealousy, does spice up a girl's otherwise predictable Sunday.
No one has come forward. To be honest, I almost hope they never will. Whoever blessed me, they were hearing the Lord. I felt the love of the Father in it. There was healing in it. I am guessing it is a "twin thing", maybe. I think my Other Daughter could have done it. She and her sister often find themselves doing the same things, without even realizing it. One daughter got me a bouquet of "glads". The other had no idea, she was spending the night with a dear friend. She might be the one who, less than 24 hours later, also sprinkled my life and my day with fairy-daughter dust, and great joy. And roses and chocolate.
If it was you...Thank You, Daughter. Some mothers talk about being best friends with their daughters - I have consistent, enduring proof. You both bless me continually.