Little Black Book

That’s strange, she thought to herself as she walked along the morning shore- a little black book had washed up on the rocks that lined the water. The early 20’s young woman climbed down the rocks with her tall black rain boots until she was able to reach the book. She picked it up out of the water- hearing a distant sigh- she looked around, up, left, right- nothing. Ella shook off the erethral shivers she considered coincidental as she opened the small book; the pages coarse with no guiding lines or words.. soaked in sea water moments ago, it was as if the pages were protected, they were not wet. Curious, she tucked the book into her back pocket and climbed back up to the path- it was an overcast spring day, not many people were out and about so no one seemed to notice her aversion to the path. As she began walking again, she brought the book back out and casually flipped through the blank pages, “What an odd thing to find on the shore this Sunday morning.”, She thought quietly aloud. As she flipped through numerous times mindlessly, something caught her eye in the pages. She stopped in her tracks and flipped back through the previously blank book; characters in black writing at the beginning of the book began to surface more prominently- becoming more clear the longer she stared. In cursive, the words read, “Each shiny red broach you see, you must always be aware, mark the signs, be grateful for each.” she flipped the page- then back, the words were gone and replaced by a chart seemingly for tracking, so many questions surfaced.. “What the hell? How will I know?” She thought. A confused face she wore as polite passersby pretended not to notice this confused young woman with a black book stopped in the midst of a walking path. The book closed. Ella was unsettled at this Sunday find, “Usually Sundays are quite predictable”, Ella observed silently. She began to put one foot in front of the other, tracking what she had eaten today.. she knew she didn’t smoke any mind altering substances this morning, "Was this reality?” Her pace was slow- her gaze low as she pondered further. Looking up, there it was, a bright red broach on a walkers coat! Almost as though programmed, she searched for a pen to mark this sigting. The sun caught the shiny broach and pierced Ella’s eye- the book dropped to the ground as she shot her hand up to stop the beam, the book had opened to the chart, seemingly prompting a track. She gasped, and rapidly dug through her purse for a pen, pulling one out from the depths of her posh leather bag, she ticked in the box measuring her first sighting. After marking, a gust of wind turned the page, new writing began to appear, becoming more bold as she stood above the book staring. ‘Everyday there will be new opportunities, but not everyday you will see, track what you see- at the end you will be rewarded for what you have seen’. Picking up the book she continued, trying to logically comprehend the recent events in her Sunday. Unable to fathom the experience, she internalized the event; vowing to track these broaches amongst her daily life.

Ella did well to begin adding this habit to her daily routine. On average, at the end of each day there was one additional tick. Days when Ella was distracted or felt heavy inside, she would unknowingly miss the broach- for her lack of attention was prominent some days more than others. Seeing the broach was a reflection of her undivided presence in the moment she lived in. The universe had sent Ella the book, as a gift; for what better way to gift someone, than to help them see that each day holds a moment of gratitude- if only one moment.

The years passed and the marks filled the book, each tick a historic line tied to one particular moment with one particular broach. Ella’s health was deteriorating more and more everyday, and the upkeep of her health was too financially straining to combat. On Ella’s 80th birthday, the book would not open. The whole day was filled with broach after red broach catching her eye. But each time Ella’s frail hands went to open the book, it remained shut. Just opened the day before, Ella began to get the feeling, this was the moment she had been waiting for. Ella was surrounded by family, loving friendships and an abundance of peace, for her gratitude had only grown over the years with each tick. Everything she could ask for, was present and around her. Ella grew into a grateful soul; one broach at a time, and this was her fortune. Ella did not come from wealth or fortune in the form of cash, but at this age, she recognized- her family is all the wealth she could ever need.

That night, as Ella went back to her apartment; she was adamant to open the book- as she reached into her purse, the book was gone- it had disappeared. Rather than becoming flustered, Ella sat down on the couch in her studio apartment living room- she thought of the pages filled with pencil markings and smiled to herself for all she had seen. All she had actively seen knowing to look out for each red broach. Images of memories flashed in her mind as she attempted to remember each broach tied to one unique tick in the mysterious little black book. The people she had seen- the moments of time she had witnessed. Ella was thankful to have been shown these moments; for throughout her life, the red broach had helped her remain aware that it was not just her in this world- but many others living their main lives. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, she arose from the couch and approached the apartment door; through the window, she could see a delivery man waiting patiently with a package in hand. “An odd time for delivery.”, she thought; Ella opened the door and much to her surprise, the mail man was wearing a red broach- one that was a part of uniform, but Ella knew that broach. She signed and thanked the man for his later delivery. Ella sat back down on her couch and thought about this moment she was experiencing. What intrigue she had to determining what was in the package. Ella took her time tearing the brown paper away, underneath, the cardboard box opened up easily to a note that read, “To live in the present, is to live fully” beside the note, was a red broach. A sudden wave of emotion encompassed Ella as she lifted the broach from the box, an overwhelming sense of the years that lead her to this moment, one red broach at a time. Upon picking up the broach, Ella was greeted with a relieving sigh, similar to her first experience with the little black book many years ago. She didn’t look around this time, for she knew. Ella’s wealth was the moments that were given to her over the years, Ella’s wealth was life itself. She began to weep happily with an overwhelming sense of life in her heart, for she knew her time was limited.

Underneath the broach; she spotted a cheque written on thick, coarse paper- Ella knew this was no coincidence, the same paper she had known in the little black book. On the cheque, an additional note read, “To Ella, moments cannot be measured, but money can provide access to more moments; your grateful heart has provided this for you, only decreased in value by the moments missed; one dollar for each acknowledged moment over your life is your reward.” Astounded at the numeric value of the cheque, $20,000.00, Ella reflected- only moments ago her time remaining was short, this cheque provided a means to elongate her time on this earth. Ella took the red broach from the box, stood up and went to the mirror, her long grey hair and pale skin looked back at her and she put the broach on. Ella would live to see many more red broaches, Ella would live to witness many more moments.