My Shawl | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: My Shawl | Previous Challenge Entry
By Donna Martelli
03/08/22
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES

My mom gave me a beautiful shawl for my sixteenth birthday that she had made especially for me. It was pink, my favorite color, and on it, she had done needlepoint depicting various milestones in my life so far. Her handiwork pictured ballet shoes, ballerinas, flowers, birds, and swans. Around the edges of the entire shawl were small green leaves, like ivy. In tiny script on the lower left side were her initials, ELS. I treasured it. I wore it at dance rehearsals to keep warm while waiting for my turn to dance. Sometimes I laid it across my feet and legs so they would stay warmed up.

When I moved to New York to dance professionally, my beloved shawl was my constant companion. It traveled with me on a tour of Europe and North Africa. Then on becoming an adult and as a dance instructor, my beloved shawl was my trademark.

In early spring, I went to lunch with my friend, Anna. The sky was blue and the sun gloriously shining, so we opted to eat outside. It was warm, so I took off my shawl and laid it on the bench beside me. We had a lovely time chatting together and enjoying the break from routine. When it was time to leave, we gathered our purses and our to-go boxes as we shared plans to meet again soon.

Driving home, I thought how much I loved seeing Anna again and hearing her perspective on life. I pulled into my driveway, put the car in “park,” and reached to the passenger seat for my purse, to-go box, and shawl. My stomach sank: my shawl was not there.

Hurriedly, I backed out of the driveway and returned to the restaurant where Anna and I had lunch. I ran to our now-occupied bench.

“Excuse me,” I asked the young man sitting where I had sat less than an hour ago, “Did you find a shawl on the seat beside you?”

“No, nothing here,” he shrugged.

I ran to the hostess and asked if anyone had returned a shawl to the lost-and-found. No one had. I continued to look around the restaurant before leaving in tears.

Days passed, and my shawl was still missing. I felt naked and strangely violated without it. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. Many years passed, and I accepted that it was gone forever.

Anna and I continued to meet for lunch over the years: 25 of them! We often went shopping afterward and, on this particular day, we visited a new upscale consignment store. It was a treat for our eyes, but almost everything there was more expensive than we thought it should be.

I was browsing in the hat and scarf section when my eyes caught sight of pink fabric with green leaves in needlepoint around the edges. Could it be? Yes! My heart leaped for joy: it was my shawl!

Elated, I hurried to the checkout lane and told the associate behind the counter,

“This shawl is mine. My mom made it for me.”

The sales associate firmly said,
“You have to buy it if you want it.”

“No, it is mine; I don’t want to buy it. Look here are my mom’s initials.” I showed her the tiny letters, “ELS.”

Again she firmly said,
“You have to buy it if you want it.”

Frustrated, I said, “Ok, how much?”

“One hundred dollars.”

“But it is mine; why do I have to purchase it?”

This time she just glared at me. The associate did not know that I would have paid any amount to redeem my precious shawl. I dug through my purse and found $100. I bought it back.

With tears of joy, I hugged it to my body. What was lost was now found: redeemed from the hands of someone to whom it did not belong.

.

PREVIOUS ENTRY | NEXT ENTRY
SUBMIT YOUR ENTRY FOR THIS WEEK'S CHALLENGE

The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.

Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.