The cottage sat nestled in the thick of the woods, her walls part forest, her rooms an open heart. Not everyone knew what a special place she was, not everyone had ears to sense her subtle love. But the meadowlarks and the cedars, they did. And the dancing creek, it did, too. So they loved that little cottage as one of their own, dusting her open heart with happy every day of the week.
Then one day, a couple came. They lived nearby and had heard about the cottage, and because they knew love, they too, could hear. The wife touched her hands to her mouth, her eyes sparkling when she saw it, and the husband, he put his love-filled hand on his dear wife’s shoulder, his smile lighting up the crisp autumn air.
“She needs us. I can tell.”
The wife nodded. “But how? What is she meant for?”
“She will tell us. When it’s time, we will know.”
The wife nodded a second time, her husband’s smile also her own.
Now the husband, he worked with the homeless and the wife, she used to be a nun. The two were a particularly caring sort, their hearts happiest when they were giving and loving. And not just sharing those gifts with one another, but with everyone around them.
So it didn’t surprise either one of them when they dreamt the same dream, of fixing up the cottage for weekly vacations for the homeless.
“Yes,” said the husband, it’s what she is meant to be.
“Indeed,” said the wife, "our hearts tell us so."
So they got to work, not knowing where the money would come from, but spending it just the same, for they knew they had to listen to their hearts, that their hearts would never steer them wrong. They hammered and nailed, they sanded and polished, they painted and sewed and before they knew it, the day had arrived. Their first guest was due to arrive in just an hour.
“Darling?” called the husband to his wife. “Can you lend me a hand when you are finished there? I can’t seem to figure out this bubble in the floor.”
“I’ll be right there,” she called from the kitchen, the cupboards still needing some care.
But when she came around the corner, she saw a most curious sight.
“It was buried under the floor boards,” he said to his wife.
The two stared with wide-eyed wonder.
“It’s from her, this precious cottage, to thank us for giving her part of her life’s work.”
“To thank us for listening to her heart, as well our own.”
And when they counted it, they found that it matched the money they had spent on the cottage, within cents. Everything wasn’t just alright in the world. Everything was beautiful.
And they believed with greater conviction, in the magic of the heart.
* * *
How will you honor your heart this week? With the holiday rush will you take time for yourSelf to just breathe and Be, to listen to the gentle lurings of your heart? For when we do, our heart’s magic doesn’t just affect us, it affects all those around us…. I promise. Mrs. Urness told me so:)
**in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Urness of Bainbridge Island