Replaceable but Meaningful

Two days ago I was talking on the phone to my sister-in-law when I heard the crash in the living room.  At first I was confused, but as I looked around the corner, it became clear.  My heart sank, and I couldn't bear to analyze the wreckage for the first moments.  I could see that something was completely smashed, and although I didn't want to look, my heart knew and just sank.

After I got off the phone, I stood at the edge of the couch looking down at the mess behind it.  Two of my shelves had fallen off the wall; one of which held several porcelain keepsakes.  Most of them I could see were intact, but there was one, just one, that I could only see the base, and the top of the shelf sat upside down on top of it.  I didn't want to look, but I had to confirm it.

My dear friend who is staying with us, helped me pull back the couch and move the larger shelf.  After a very quick surveillance, my head acknowledged what my heart already knew.  I had to turn my head and fight back tears and a sob.  I reached down and picked up the pieces to a beloved statue of Jesus Christ embracing a child.  It was a gift I had received from my brother's in-laws (who are just like family) at Clarissa's graveside.  Replaceable.  That's how I comforted myself.  "It's just a thing, I can buy a new one."  I vowed I would buy one within a couple of days.  Replaceable but meaningful. I couldn't bear the thought of the crushed statue being gone for more than a couple of minutes. I knew right where I could get one.

Last night as Matt and I sat visiting with our dear friends, their little girl approached me with a new statue.  Suddenly strange events that afternoon and evening made sense.  Matt had called me around 5:30 and said, "I'm in the truck with D------," and so I expected them home within 15 minutes, but they didn't arrive for another 45 minutes.  When they did return, they were outside for several minutes, and then our friend said he had to take off again.

When their sweet daughter handed me the statue, they explained what had happened.  The wife had called her husband and told him that he needed to buy a new one before I could.  She had noticed my emotions although I tried to contain them, and she knew just how special it was to me; and she knew I planned to go out and buy one today.  There are about three or four things that I treasure most, and that statue was one of them.

Apparently, the men drove to 3-4 different places scouring store shelves with no luck.  Matt suggested that they return to the house and pull the statue base out of the trash can because he remembered seeing a label on the bottom.  Little did he know that I had filled it with yard waste after working in the garden. After digging through yard waste and house waste, they finally found the base and took a picture of it.  The sculptor had a phone number on the bottom, and our friend called her.  He found where she sold them, and he quickly left so he could make it there before the store closed at 7:00 p.m.

I know it is just a statue.  I know it is just a thing.  For me, it is more than that.  For me, it embodies my emotions the day I buried my little girl.  Now the statue embodies that hope as well as standing for true friendship and love.  Now instead of just one meaning, it has multiple.  I'm thankful for things like true friendship and memories that are NOT replaceable and very meaningful.

Thank you to my dear, dear friend who was very discerning and her husband who was very diligent and persistent in finding it.  I love you!

P.S.  Don't worry -- no more sitting on high shelves that just might come crashing down.