We shopped all day today, we three girls. Grandma, Mom, and Grace. School starts next week, and Grace Face has grown so much. She needed just about everything.
I like to shop. And I don’t. I become discontented.
Rainbows of colors promise youthful beauty. All the new styles taunt my frumpiness. I touch some soft tops as we pass, run my hand over some new crisp jeans, pause in front of the too-thin mannikin wearing a sweet classic dress.
And I remember. School clothes. For Gracee.
And she cleans up–with sparkly jeans and tops and sweatshirts and a new pair of Twinkle Toe light-up shoes. All on sale. And I find packets of bright headbands and barrettes and some silky pajamas with peace signs. And a flannel footed onesie with monkeys on it that will keep her warm in the winter that she says she’ll wear–but only at home and only with family around.
And I think I should watch for a similar pair for her mom.
I justify buying a jigsaw puzzle as educational because it’s a multicolored map of the United States.
And I break down and buy myself a T-shirt. One T-shirt. But it’s a Detroit Tigers T-shirt.
A very successful shopping day that creates a drought in my finances.
On the way home, it suddenly starts to pour. But the sun is bright on our right.
“Look for a rainbow, Grace,” I tell her.
And we all crane our necks–looking, looking.
And there it is! I can see it in my rear view mirror.
Big. Bright. Perfect. Spanning horizon to horizon, it seems. But I can’t turn around.
I tell Abby to quick snap a picture. She riffles through my purse for the camera, but the bow is gone as quickly as the rain began.
Still I’m lost in the colors of rain and rainbows and God’s promises.
I decide no fashion designer can top the Great Designer, and no promise made can top His. And I get this song stuck in my head.
Linking up to Emily’s Imperfect Prose on Thursdays.
Rainbow photo courtesy of morgueFile free photos.