Just before church started on Sunday, a woman and her daughter sat down in front of us. I noticed right away that the woman had a sparkly foam sticker on the back of her sweater. Even though I didn’t know her, my first instinct was to tap her on the shoulder to let her know it was there.
But I couldn’t. The sticker made me smile. I liked it there. We had stickers like that at home. ONE used them for Thank You Cards and art projects. I’ve peeled them off walls, chairs, and the inside of the washing machine.
It made me think of the other stuff. The bangle bracelets that hibernated in my parka last summer. The glittery lipgoss that leaked through the back pocket of my jeans. Elmo’s iPod that played from my purse when I bumped into someone at the grocery store. A handful of elastic ponytail holders in the side door of the car. Little socks wedged in my shoes. Weed bouquets.
Throughout the service I caught other people glancing at the woman’s sweater and smiling. All moms. Some with grown kids sitting next to them, others struggling with younger ones. A few new moms swaying tiny babies back and forth. I didn’t know any of them, but it didn’t matter. We were all thinking the same kinds of things…and hoping she didn’t take the sticker off.
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