It was a fall day, much like today. Cool, very pleasant. My mind was elsewhere though, somewhere down and discouraged. I had walked from the train and was trudging up the steep Walnut Street incline to Mom’s house after doing something in Philly. Low autumn sunlight glinted off blue in the dirt near the sidewalk. A sliver of brilliant, happy, cobalt blue. After pulling the thing from the black soil, I rubbed it’s surface and knocked the dirt out. It was an old Bromo Seltzer bottle. The kind you put a cork in. About two and a half inches high.
How it got there, I don’t know exactly. Except I do. God put it there for just that day, just as the sun slung low in the west, to hit it just right and shimmer. For me to pick up.
It’s traveled all over with us. To South Dakota for our difficulties there. Back home when we cared for Mom. And now here in the midstate, as a sort of Ebenezer, that He will never leave nor forsake.
I like to look at it on the window sill with light shining through it when I’m feeling low. Think about the God who took the trouble to do something special for one person, out of the billions on this planet. A bit of cobalt blue in a sea of black.