Rabbithole ripples (a repeat)….

I need to believe at least six impossible things before breakfast
…..as if fresh buckets full of stars
poured out
melt holes in heaven’s floor,
poking peepholes into possibility.
I let myself remember that long-ago day
when I plopped my childhood bike down along the sidewalk
and swung through the heavy doors to Hickory Farms
like Alice tumbling down the rabbithole
into Wonderland.
My pockets were empty;
we’d been hunting for used glass bottles
to exchange for dimes
to purchase candy at the neighborhood drugstore
Pickings had been slim;
my steps were silent…. none of that hopeful jingling
that made me the happy bearer of choices.
Hoping to score discarded bottles in their trash,
we went inside to investigate.
Once behind the door,   I went breathless with wonder.
It was a visual symphony
….rows and stacks of gorgeous treasures
in brightly colored tins,
boxes and baskets of spectacular candy
tied with rich bows
in every shade of plenty.
It was audacious
…..plates of creamy cheeses,
wafer thin slices of spicy sausage,
salty nuts,
crackers shaped like snowflakes and diamonds,
crisp ginger cookies
and pretty plates of candy wrapped up like shiny strawberries!
 The most mind-altering bit of dreaminess was
that I was invited to take and eat!
With toothpicks wearing festive party hats
a smiling lad offered!
“Samples”,  she called them.
Just receive.
My mind REELED!
But my favorite part
(yes,  there was more),
like finding my own private cave of treasure,
was the courtesy coffee table in the back of the store.
Beside the pungent smelling brew was a sparkling crystal dish
(the work of fairies,  I was certain)
full of snow white cubes made of crunchy white sugar.
It’s true…..little sugary blocks!
I still remember the trembly sweetness
that rushed through my system
to a creshendo and then shudder
as I crunched that first
little wonder.ripplespeak
Like a chipmunk in the Fall,
I left that store with scrunchy pockets
(just a few more for later).
When I swung back through those heavy wooden doors
into the world of dirty glass bottles and dimes,
I was changed.
I still believed in hard work and honest wages.
But there was something more
….a new groove carved into my thinking.
And now,  I need to remember.
even when you can’t possibly earn it,
when your own hands aren’t enough,
grace is given.
Inexplicably and unexpectedly,
provision can come
wrapped in more than you can ask
or imagine.
In a twinkle in time it can happen.
Nothing is impossible.