I spent two hours in the local Dunkin’ Donuts shop in Bangor, PA last evening. I usually do this while my son Kris is at Hopesprings youth group. It gives me time to do some thinking, musing and writing. I get the added bonus of doing all that while enjoying a cup of Joe and munching on some donuts.
Last night’s visit was especially sweet. With just about 20 minutes to go before I had to leave in walked a young mom and her two daughters. They couldn’t have been more than 5 and 3. Mom ordered herself a coffee and the wee ones each had a frosted donut. They settled down at a nearby table and the girls shook off their coats, their long blond hair standing on end in response to the static electricity created in the frenzy. They were each wearing frilly tutus and tights as they sat down to devour their treats. The chattering away through donut-stuffed mouths and sugar glazed lips all combined for a few moments of bliss. Through all the giggling and enjoyment Mom was smiling and talking to her girls.
“Thank you,” she said as she smiled. I knew that she recognized the gift of simple joy of sharing time with her daughters.
All this in a donut shop. Who knew? But I guess that is the point, right? You never know where those thin places will appear; you never know where or when heaven will meet earth. You just have to be open to it when it presents itself and when that happens you just have to sit back, enjoy it and give thanks that you were witness to a little miracle.
And I only had two donuts. Not bad; not bad at all.