In a quest to replace to lamp bulbs that had flashed in a failing attempt to work, I found myself heading to Ikea. Cheap, reliable, and predictable are words I normally associate with the store and the products one finds there. In this case, the words did not fit. Whatever I might think of things, if I wanted to use the products it was the only store that had the replacement parts.
As I came in from the underground parking lots I could hear bells. It was an odd sound because it has been over a year since I heard similar bells. Then it was the familiar Santa ringing a bell by the Salvation Army Donation bucket in San Francisco. Traditionally, the sound of Santa ringing the bells is familiar and assuring. As I came up the stairs, I did not find the familiar bucket or Santa. Instead there were two young Santa helpers in outfits that were a cross between an elf and Santa’s suit. I have no idea what they were drawing attention to because they were sitting on a bench, blissfully ringing the bells, chatting to each other, and by all appearances totally unaware of anyone passing by them.
The store was full. People were busy and in the holiday spirit. Excited kids were dragging their parents from one display to another. Children of all ages could be caught indulging in a soft ice cream cone. One’s senses were bombarded with the sounds of Christmas. The Santa helpers were stark exceptions. My father instincts were screaming within; “What’s going on here? Is God out to lunch? Nobody’s tending the store.” (Psalm 73.11) Meanwhile, life in the store continued as if they were virtual images planted in a surreal movie scene.
I walked on wondering why. There was little that one could say. There was nothing that I should have said. There were lessons for me in the moment.
If one is going to do something, do it. Forget about wasting time.
One always leaves an impression.
Memories are carriers of hope and comfort.
