November 14, 2014 by Melanie L.
As a child, my parents loved the handmade gifts I made for them. Or, at least they let me believe that they did. Macaroni necklaces? Gorgeous! Paper plate with a popsicle stick glued to the back? Precious!
I’m now a parent of two children and I see why. It never matters what the gift is exactly. Each gift is a testament to the fact that my children are growing, learning and thriving. The homemade thing they each present to me is a reminder that I have already received the two greatest gifts in the world.
Before I ever became a mother, however, there is one homemade gift that I cherish. My talented friend presented me with this gorgeous mosaic. She artfully etched my anticipated wedding date into some of the pieces and presented it to me as an engagement gift. The mirror was and remains my most cherished engagement gift. I proudly displayed it in my marital home.
A few short years later, my marriage ended. I gathered my belongings in a frenzy and paused when I remembered the mosaic. I stood and stared at it. I refused to leave it behind notwithstanding the fact that a date I would rather wipe from my memory was still permanently etched on its face. I carefully packaged the mosaic and resolved to find a place for it in my new home.
I reveled in my new apartment and the freedom that came with it. I took my time arranging my things. I had set the mosaic on the floor against the wall until I could decide what to do with it. But, before I had the chance to buy some nails and hang it, my talented friend came calling. She spied her beautiful mosaic sitting politely against the wall and insisted she take it home with her. I parted with it only reluctantly.
A few weeks later, my friend asked to meet me for coffee in the middle of a work day. Excited for the opportunity to see her for an unscheduled visit, I met her at a coffee shop across from my office. Meanwhile, she had schlepped all the way across town, roughly 20 blocks, on foot, with a baby strapped to her chest. Tucked away neatly in a shopping bag that hung from her arm, though, she carried my treasured mosaic. She had touched up her homemade artwork to erase the etched wedding date and gave it back to me.
In so doing, she etched, anew, our friendship on my heart. Her mosaic now hangs in my office as a physical reminder of the intangible art of friendship.
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