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As above, so below. As within, so without. The Emerald Tablet, circa 3000 BC

Some of you who stop by this blog and my Author Page know that recently, we said “good-bye” to my younger sister, Manette. She helped me to launch this blog back in 2010 and I’ve written a tribute to her each year on the occasion of her birthday. I thank so many who’ve reached out with kind condolences for my family. These days, we spend a lot of time reminiscing – I’ve poured over photos and so many cards and letters she wrote me in the early 1980s, long before texts and posts were possible.

One memory stands out, however,  a story I’ve never shared for fear some would think I was just a “Story” teller. But this true experience still resonates and has special meaning for me these days, especially.

Back around 2010, my husband and I began renting a home in the heart of Big Pine Key, about an hour east of Key West. We loved that house situated on a lagoon with the front yard facing a nature preserve filled with gentle inquisitive tiny Key Deer. We also love the memories formed there as we had so many visitors.

On one occasion, my sister and her husband David, came to spend some time in Big Pine. During her visit, my sister gave me a copy of the bestselling book The Secret. Written by Rhonda Byrne, it took the publishing world by a storm, selling zillions of copies. Published by Atria/Beyond Words in 2006, The Secret basically recounts the history of positive thinking, encouraging readers to visualize that anything is possible. The book has been embraced and scorned by many.

While I found no harm in reading the thoughts and quotes of many great minds joined in positivity, there was a great deal of doubting and much fun was poked in the direction of Manette, and myself, throughout the visit whenever the book was mentioned.

One of the practices suggested in the book is to visualize an object in your mind and this “thing” will manifest (ex. a coin on the ground, a white feather, a winning lotto ticket?). I recall thinking this was ridiculous, but I played along and visualized white pebbles. This was absurd, however, I realized because the entire front yard of the rental house was filled with millions of little white pebbles. Brilliant!

After my sister and her husband departed, I was out walking our late great Portuguese water dog, Hooper, when a pack of four young kids began circling us on bikes; they looked to be between ages 6-12. They spoke with a twang and told me they were from a town on the Georgia-Florida border. The oldest, a boy, proudly showed me his pocket knife. They were intrigued with Hooper and “our” house and asked for a tour. Not knowing these kids, and it not being “my” house, I had to decline. We talked for bit before they rode off to their own rental down on the end of the road.

The next day, the pack returned. It was Sunday and the family, who had rented a house just for a long weekend, would be leaving later that day. They played with Hooper and talked to me for a while then as kids will, got bored and pedaled home. The youngest, a quiet little girl stopped, however, and reached for something on the ground. She reminded me of my own sister, petite, brown-haired with blue-eyes – quiet. She circled back to me and when she returned, I inquired about her family for some reason. “Is that all of you?” I asked pointing in the direction of her siblings. She answered with a sad nod and told me that she had recently lost her only sister, the eldest sibling. I told her I had lost a brother just a few years earlier and knew how she felt. Then she held out her hand. “These are for you,” she said. She opened her small palm to reveal two small white pebbles. I was too stunned to speak. I just watched her ride off to join her brothers and sisters. I never saw them again.

I found those pebbles early this year, high up on a shelf next to a tiny angel-winged figurine of our late great “Hoop Girl”. Then, I found my copy of The Secret and reread what my sister had written to me several years ago, her words more meaningful than ever.

Secret

I can’t explain why certain things happen. People may think that I imagined this (my husband saw those kids) or say it was just a coincidence, but I like to think that everyday we are privy to small “secrets” that let us know everything really does happen for a reason, and these “small” moments let us know that everything will be okay.

Thanks again. Stay safe in the storms. Spring is near.

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