There are thousands, but Buddha balances on her injured foot to pick one.
She turns the plain rock so I can see what she sensed- a cookies-and-creme sparkle on the inside. I smile in delight, letting her sight lead our hobbled strides over prison gravel.
"There it is," she declares, crouching to reach for another stone with unerring certainty. She flips it over and, of course, they are a perfect match.
She gives one to me, pocketing the other half.
The simple magic of the sharing and discovery serves as a reminder:
Everything's already okay, even if you're just limping forward.
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Diary note from 3/26/2015: Today, Buddha graduates but I was not allowed to attend. She pushed her way through all manner of obstacles and gave a piece of her peace to the mountain. Her stone has saved me many times, so she's long been a hero,but today she is also a firefighter. Congrats, my friend, and when I am free to share this- and you are free to read this- we will celebrate.
