The Cookie

 

Once I was taking pictures on the side of a busy intersection when I unknowingly stepped in a huge fire ant pile. By the time I came to the horrendous realization that my ankles were swarmed with angry, stinging ants, the only course of action I could formulate was to strip down to my underwear on the side of the road in an effort to separate myself from the sadistic creatures. I then had to remain on the side of the road in my skivvies — as cars slowed and honked and jeered — for a good 10 minute before I felt sure that I’d picked every last ant out of the fibers of my pants.

Now, if you’ll take the liberty of applying that traumatizing mental picture to my emotional well-being, you will conjure an image of the mindset I was in earlier this week as I sat huddled in the corner of a cafe feeling a little sad.

It’d been a long time since I’d gone somewhere just to think. I don’t know when it started or why, but lately I can’t seem to sit still without something to read, or a notebook to write in or a wifi-connected device to scroll through. It was refreshing to let my brain loose to wander without fences or obligations, but it was also a little uncomfortable because, well, it turns out that my brain was a little sad. And a little angry. And a little hurt. And paralyzingly terrified that people never seem to stay in my life for longer than a season or two.

Have you ever felt like that? Like the people you love always seem to disappear… or you disappear… or some way or another you just fade out of each other’s lives? Does it ever make you think that maybe you’re destined to be alone? I hate that thought. I hate that people I love and care about now might not be in my life a year from now. And I hate that no matter how hard I try, sometimes I have no control over whether or not that premonition comes true.

This was my depressing train of thought as I sat huddled in the corner of a cafe feeling a little sad. And these sad thoughts must have been playing out pretty clearly across my face because as I was finishing my last bite of tortilla soup, a waitress came over and handed me a cookie.

“An admirer bought this for you,” she said, smiling, “they said not to tell you who they were, but they hope that your day gets better.”

I was a stunned and a little embarrassed that my melancholy had been so transparent.

“Do you like chocolate chip?” the waitress asked nervously as I looked in the bag.

“Yes!” I said, loudly, hoping my gratitude would reach the ears of the responsible party, “I love chocolate chip cookies! Thank you so much!”

The waitress beamed and I beamed back her and then I beamed at every eye that darted in my direction after she left because that’s what you’re supposed to do when a stranger buys you a cookie, right? Be excited!

Only…

Do tears ever take you by surprise?

As sad as I had been earlier in my meal, I had no notion whatsoever to cry. Especially not in public. Especially not over a chocolate chip cookie. And especially not when the pressure to be visibly grateful was so urgent.

Somewhere in that restaurant, someone had wanted to cheer me up so badly that they’d bought me a cookie and, presumably, they were watching to see if it did the trick. I had to look delighted! And yet, I took one bite of that chocolate chip cookie and tears abruptly began to pour out of my eyes and down my face like I was watching the end of The Titanic. As hard as I tried, I just couldn’t get them to stop. But, by god, I kept smiling. I chowed down on that chocolate chip cooking with the tears bathing my cheeks and a wide, trembling, serial-killer grin on my face; and I am sure that whoever bought me that cookie left that evening certain that they would never again do something nice for a sad stranger because I must have looked nothing short of terrifying.

Which is unfortunate because that cookie actually turned my entire night around.

I realized as I consumed my tear-soaked cookie that even though I have no control over whether people come or go from my life, I never have to worry that my life will be void of love. I was in a restaurant where I didn’t know a single soul and somebody took the time to care about me.

And that’s the thing, had I been able to look down on myself as I sat huddled in the corner of a cafe feeling a little sad and orchestrate a scenario to cheer myself up, I would have scripted it completely differently. I might have had a friend stop by, or my favorite song come on the radio… at the very least I would have chosen a different kind of cookie (I’m more of an oatmeal-raisin kind of girl) but while I’m sure all of those things would have made me smile, I don’t think any of them would have impacted me in the same way.

That’s the powerful thing about love. It may not come to you the way you want or from the people you want or exactly when you want, but love will always come. The only control you have is whether or not to see it.

Love is invincible. No friend has the power to destroy love. No ruler has the power to destroy love. No sickness, no heartbreak, no death has the power to destroy love. We only destroy it in ourselves by ignoring it and dwelling on the darkness around us.

So, look for the love, my friends.

Nurture it. Absorb it. Send it in cookies to strangers and we’ll never have anything to be afraid of.

Except fire ants.