A box came today for Abigail. From Chelsea. A box from Chelsea is never just a box- it is a multilayered flower than unfolds in petals, it is a butterfly emerging from it’s chrysalis, it is tissue thin leaves of gold stitched with unicorn-tail floss. A box from Chelsea is nothing less than magic. Unadulterated, lush green magic. And Abigail got her first Chelsea box.

(I’ll just gloss over how the boys have been complaining that no one loves them anymore, because every time the UPS man rings the doorbell he has a box for (sneering) Abigail. Oh, waah.)

Well, since Abby is obviously too young to do it herself, I tore into the box with glee. What met the touch of my fingers, as I peeled away the layers of tissue and packaging, was the finest white porcelain. A teeny, tiny, delicate white tea-cup lay in my hand, with a handle so small my pinkie finger doesn’t fit through it. As I continued to unwrap, three more tea-cups emerged, then a saucer for each, and finally, the fat little tea-pot. On each delicate piece was part of a woodland scene, a squirrel in a branch, a spider spinning a web, a butterfly on a flower, and so on. The teapot has a tiny painting of two boys riding a wooden stick horse on one side, and a little girl sitting on a milking stool on the other.

Each and every one of these miniature peices of art was thrown on Chelsea’s wheel, glazed and painted with her own hands- Her mark is on the bottom of each little cup. It is a treasure, an heirloom. And I am without words to adequately thank someone for such a gift. It cannot be done.

I don’t know what I did to deserve the friends I have, but I am constantly standing amazed at the women and men who grace my life. So much love, so much to share, so many talents and gifts and spiritual giants- in so many  people. 

My feelings can best be summed up in the Hindu phrase, Namaste, which loosely translates to ” I bow to the Divinity within you.” Thank you.