Tiny miracles are the best kind there are, part 3

A lonely Saturday night walking through the neighborhood, walking because I needed the pick-me-up, the lift of seeing lights and smiling faces in the streets, and I come across it on the sidewalk. I’m near the corner of Prince and Satula, resisting the urge to pop into the Normal Bar for a bourbon, trying to get an early start on the Lenten season, trudging home, carrying my knapsack with a book and a notepad in it like Linus’s security blanket, knowing I don’t plan to stop in anywhere to read while nursing a drink or a too-late-in-the-evening-coffee. Not looking where I’m going, I almost smudge it. Written in chalk on the Satula sidewalk, undraped by streetlight, is this message:

Do not look at yourself
with disgust. You are a
gift to this earth. You
are beautiful, you
are a light, an energy,
an essence.

You are nature
HERSELF.

I smile. I extract my notepad from my knapsack, glad it was weighing me down after all, scribble down the chalk prayer amid in the darkness and bartalk, and head home, a little more grateful and with my heart grinning just enough to make it through.

——————-

RELATED: Other tiny miracles—one and two.

About Walter Biggins

Walter Biggins is a writer based in Athens, GA. His work has been published in RogerEbert.com, Bookslut, The Comics Journal, Salon, The Baseball Chronicle, Jackson Free Press, and Valley Voices: A Literary Review. Follow him on Twitter (@walter_biggins), and check out his bimonthly newsletter (https://tinyletter.com/Walter_Biggins).
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2 Responses to Tiny miracles are the best kind there are, part 3

  1. On an early morning walk last week, just after a pretty vigorous rain storm passed through, I saw a square, yellow note in the grass curbside. The note was wrapped all around its edges in masking tape. In ballpoint pen across the top was written “Ray Schott’s Rayality Check:12 Things Ray Needs to Work on Rayt Now.” Are you hooked already? I was staggered, unbelieving. “1) Always remember no one forgives you like yourself; 2) Got to stop all this drinking; 3) These jeans!; 4) Stop yelling on the phone with Mom; 5) Beth, I love you….” Now, this blazing yellow note, perfectly square and reinforced by masking tape, must have belonged in the truck to be ready at hand. And, with the sun not up but lighting all in the orange and peach of first light, I could not bring myself to kneel and pocket the note then and there. That sense of being watched so overwhelmed me—neighbors were out, bundling children, heading to work—I couldn’t even snap a picture on the Android phone. How would that look?! Oh, if I had only had Walter’s backpack and notepad. Things to Work on Rayt Now: These walking/workout clothes without a notepad!

  2. Pingback: Tiny miracles are the best kind there are, #4 | Quiet Bubble

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