I rescued the chair from outside someone’s apartment with the hope of fixing it and having it become a welcome member of our family.
But as often happens it sat around in various places waiting for me to find the time to repair it.
Finally I decided that it was one more project that I did not have time for and so yesterday I put it out on the sidewalk in the hopes that someone would take it home.
It sat out there all through yesterday in the rain and the sun, lonely, awaiting a new friend. A few people paused to look but then drove away. Periodically I would look out my window to see it still sitting forlornly there.
Then this morning I noticed an older gentleman walking past who began to inspect the chair. He picked it up, put it on his back and walked away.
It is a beautiful chair. It just needs to be repaired and I am sure its new owner will do just that.
I don’t know about you but I feel a lot like that broken chair, waiting for the gentle hands of someone to put me back together again.
I wait, broken, with the hope that those hands will touch me, I will be healed, and I can have a purpose again.