I recently arrived home after a week away to find a brown paper package among the bills and catalogs in my collected mail. I opened it to find a small book—the kind with a textured cover and heavy pages—from a friend.
"The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating" by Elisabeth Tova Bailey follows the author's recuperation from a serious illness and the companionship she finds in a wild snail. Initially, the snail lives in a potted plant on her bedside table, but eventually, her health aide creates a terrarium in which he can roam around, snooze, drink from a tiny puddle, and munch on his meals, which, it turns out, he does rather loudly.
The beauty and grace of Tova Bailey's relationship with the snail is that it transforms her experience of being bedridden. She's physically unable to venture outside or even take a brief walk to her window, but the snail provides a world in which she sees life and change. This small world gives her hope and reassurance that even when she feels she is stuck—which is how illness and recuperation often feel—she continues to change and participate in the world around her, if only in a small way. I haven't finished reading the book yet so I'm not sure how their relationship ends, but the lesson of slowing down and accepting nature's clock is a valuable one.
The friend who sent me the book is my junior high school English teacher, who has been an amazing cheerleader of my writing career. Recently, her brother passed away from cancer, and she told me that toward the end of his life, she would often read "The Sound of a Snail Eating" to him. It was an activity that brought them both comfort during an exceedingly difficult time. She was one of my first writing teachers, and I'm tickled that she is still teaching me.
How lovely to have such a special friend, Ingrid. The book sounds quite intriguing and I’m definitely going to see if I can find a copy . . . .
ReplyDeleteI think part of the meaningfulness of unexpected gifts is that they remind us of those special relationships we have with others. Once, during a very difficult time, a friend removed her necklace and, with a hug, gave it to me. I still treasure both the necklace and the hug . . . .
What a lovely, lovely story. Sounds like a great gift, Ingrid.
ReplyDeleteThe only gift I can think of that falls into this category is one my oldest nephew, now in his mid-forties, gave me when he visited with my sister a few years ago. Tim was hit by a car when he was four, and had brain damage from the accident. He's never been able to hold a job, can never drive, and will always live with my sister. He did father a child, who is now about 20, but she has had to live with her mother and grandparents.
Tim gets a small stipend from Social Security-his only income, so when he gave me a necklace, it meant more than if some other person had given me a rare gem. It's nothing much, probably from a truck stop gift shop, but it has a tag with "Aunt" on one side, and "Always There" on the other. Whenever I see it my eyes well up with love.
That's lovely, Karen. It really is the thought, not the item that counts.
DeleteWhat a beautiful story, and such a thoughtful friend. I've had many small, unexpected gifts that right now seem too ordinary to qualify, and I hope I've given back in turn.
ReplyDeleteMy critique partners took my out to lunch to celebrate my book contract. That was not expected - but the lovely Pandora charm bracelet was. Every time I look at it I'm reminded I have these awesome folks in my corner.
ReplyDeleteMary/Liz
I just realized these are completely backward. The lunch was expected, the bracelet was not!
DeleteMary/Liz
Ingrid, I will be looking for this book. Thank you for sharing--and to Joan and Karen and Mary as well. The unexpected gift I was given came about because of a 'gift' I gave. A much-loved friend asked me to write something for his funeral service. On the evening of his death, I wrote a poem that wove images of Gary into a 'picture' of the grace and love he shared with us. I read this at his service--and the gift I was given was an extraordinary moment--people were packed into the halls--standing, sitting wherever--and the silence was a profound, heightened stillness--all of us sharing a sense of wonder and love for this man who had graced our lives.
ReplyDeleteFlora, that sounds like a profound experience. Your friend obviously knew what he was doing when he asked you to write something for the service.
DeleteThat book sounds like a real find.
ReplyDeleteFlora, what a lovely gift.
For me, any unexpected gift is this precious.
ReplyDeleteI think I need this book to remind me about important things when I'm mired in the effluvia of life.
ReplyDeleteLast weekend my grandson, Zach, and his wife, Alexandra were here. We had a lovely four or five days, full of laughter and family and afternoon tea. And we told them about this marvelous Amarone we had tasted, sold only by Trader Joe's, not available here. So what do you think arrived in the mail on Thursday! Two wonderful bottles, well wrapped and possibly illegally shipped, unbroken and now tucked into the wine refrigerator awaiting the next steak we grill.
This is made even better because they returned to Raleigh and promptly bought a house, plenty enough to think about without worrying about a gift for Grandmommie and Julie.
Often the best gifts are not material ones, though. Zach, who is 26, told Julie that he could not remember when she hadn't been in his life. He said it had been Grandmommie and Julie for as long as he could recall. Wow.
And sometimes the best gift is the reaction we get when we give one. I bought Julie, for Christmas, a box of pencils, highly recommended by Deb, Blackwing, the ones meant for marking one's music. Julie was was overwhelmed, and she still brings out the box to sniff the cedar they are made from. What a lot of joy that brought us both for twenty bucks or so.
One last thing: A gift I almost always give to the family of someone who has a terminal illness is a book written by two hospice nurses,n Maggie Callahan and Patricia Kelly, FINAL GIFTS. It is still in print, and it might be the singularly most appreciated thing I can do. When my friend, who is a doctor yet, was flying home to her dying mother, she read this book on the plane. She later thanked me, and told me that she knew exactly what to say to her mother when she saw her for the last time.
So many wonderful gifts to be found if you open to seeing them! I especially love what Zach told Julie; and it didn't cost him anything!
DeleteOh, I love those black wing pencils, I am totally hooked on them. And now I am spoiled or any other kind. Ingrid, that is a beautiful story… And it is your gift to us!
ReplyDeleteI try (emphasis on TRY) to give whatever I can, when I can, so it wasn't such a weird impulse to give a Dallas Winds recording to a complete stranger. When my sister told me a woman at her church wanted to start a church band, I sent my sis a copy of a CD my band had made a few years back and asked her to give it to the woman with the message that we'd heard what she was doing and we wanted to encourage her in her efforts.
ReplyDeleteMy sister didn't know the woman well, and it took a couple of weeks for them to cross paths at church. When they did, my sister pulled out the CD and relayed my message, pretty much word for word. The woman said, "Oh, my god, the Dallas Winds? The Dallas Winds heard about me and are sending me courage? It's a sign!"
Turned out we were her favorite wind ensemble, and she had just been diagnosed with breast cancer. She was starting chemo the next day. To receive music and words of encouragement from her musical idols at that exact moment seemed like a sign straight from heaven to her. She told my sister later that she listened to the CD over and over as she took her chemo treatments. She's still doing fine, six years later.
So sometimes it's how the gift hits you, rather than the intent of the gift that matters. I had no idea about the cancer. I was just thinking about her starting a new band. But she needed a sign that said everything would be okay and, with my unexpected gift, she got one.
Gigi, that's beautiful! It's like those 'random-acts-of-kindness'--those are all unexpected gifts and do as much for the giver as the recipient.
DeleteThat's such a great story, Gigi. We never know how an unexpected gift might be received!
DeleteGigi, your story gave me a big lump in my throat.
DeleteThe world is a mysteriously connected place, isn't it?
It is, indeed, Karen. When my sister called me back to tell me this story, I was stunned. I think sometimes the world moves and prayers are answered in the most mysterious ways.
DeleteI just found this book at my library in large print and put it on hold. Thank you. Final Gifts I saved for later.
ReplyDeleteI give my life teachers pebbles. Small rocks that have been washed and rounded by the ocean, or sound. I tell them that as this stone has been shaped by nature, they have shaped me by listening, sharing, inspiring. That the rocks were made of star stuff, and if you look within to the molecular structure, the rock is moving; is dancing in the light. I thank them for allowing me to be part of their life.
ReplyDeleteTo all of you reading this I offer a 'virtual rock."
I love this, Coralee! Thanks for the virtual rock!
DeleteI'm trying to remember a time when I gave an unexpected gift and can't - clearly, I need to up my game. My family and I were the recipients of so many gifts of time and care during Ross's last months. There was the friend who heard I was frustrated by the empty flowerbed bu the front door and showed up with bags of soil, seedlings, plants, a hanging plant stand, water dish for the birds and two hanging plants - literally an instant garden in the back of her Volvo. My mother completed the gift by helping me get everything into the ground.
ReplyDeleteThere was the weekend my brother and sister arrived and in two days repaired the front porch and painted my kitchen, turning it bright and cheerful.
Or - and I still have no idea who did this - returning home from out Christmas escape in Hawai'i to discover some good Samaritan had plowed two feet of snow off my driveway.
Julia, I know that different writers have commented on this before--but I want to say to you and the other Reds--that there have been countless times when I have been sorely tried by circumstances in my life and have found comfort, respite, and joy in reading a good book. I'll never forget laughing out loud at the scene where Clare and company are stuck in a car and high as a kite as a barnful of marijuana burns. It makes me smile even now to recall it.
DeleteA good book can often cure what ails you or at least make you feel a bit better!
DeleteWhat a delightful and inspirational blog, and book!
ReplyDeleteOh, Ingrid, I love this. Thanks so much for sharing it. I also love that you still have a relationships with your former teacher - that is a rare and special thing.
ReplyDeleteShe is rare and special, Jenn!
DeleteDear Ingrid, Today, the Jungle Red Writers gave me an unexpected gift that began with your post. I don’t think it’s pure coincidence that your message came to me right after I returned home from helping my sister-in-law sort through my brother’s clothing. Thank you, Ingrid. Thank you, Jungle Red Writers. What a beautiful community of people you are. By the way, like Ann Mason, I highly recommend the book Final Gifts.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Mrs. Harder! Yes she's my teacher. 😊
DeleteI think one of the most special parts of receiving a gift that touches your heart and soul is that the person giving it has listened to your interests and needs and responded with a gift to match those. Like your friend, Julia, who paid attention when you were needing that garden outside your front door. Or when, a friend takes the time and effort to give you a book that speaks to you, not just anybody. I take great delight in hitting a chord of a person's core in giving a gift, and I have had people who recognized me in a gift that they have then given me. I find it so amazing that my eight-year-old granddaughter is good at this. She takes note of what I and others say, and she keeps that tucked away for future reference.
ReplyDeleteThe other day I was talking to my son, who is finally dating again after a hard breakup with his love of five years. This new girlfriend has already impressed me. She listens. My son has been writing a book, among some other creative efforts, and this lovely girl bought an old typewriter and refurbished it and gave it to him. Well, my son is much like me in the appreciation of heartfelt gifts and gestures, and it touched him deeply, that she took note of what was important to him. It was a gift of healing to him, too.
I agree, Kathy that listening and paying attention are true gifts. How wonderful that your grand daughter has those abilities!
DeleteWhat a wonderful gift, and not just the book but the friendship. A treasure you will long remember.
ReplyDeleteWhat an inspirational string! The best gift I have given is to parents who have lost a newborn. As an obstetric anesthesiologist, this is sadly not terribly uncommon. Sometimes I bond with these families and there is an amazing pencil drawing of Jesus holding up a smiling baby that I give to them (if I know they are Christian). The image is amazing and it gives a reassuring perspective on the dreadful situation. I am blessed to have the opportunity to care for these people at a special time and I believe this image came to me for this purpose.
ReplyDelete