5000 flyers is our mountain these days. A scenic one, gratefully. The three of us meet in the morning to hug our greetings then drive into the neighborhood to walk to each door.
"Bevy Produce & Goods" "Organically Grown, Sustainably Farmed"
I really like our flyers. Marilyn's friend, Rami, just started his own marketing and design company and I tell him that he can't forget us when he gets big. We spread his work and ours simultaneously and after last Friday, when Rami helped us move the 900 pound beverage cooler into the store, to me, he's one of us now.
These past two weeks have been really hard. Coulda, shoulda, woulda, all put aside, there are way too many variables rendered unexpected. I've always known that I don't have the caliber to handle Bevy with pose and grace. I manage, day to day, sometimes, just hour to hour.
This new hurdle though, I completely did not see coming. No umbrella, no boots, maybe even a light spring jacket. Then it starts to rain.
All messy thoughts, but thankfully flyering in actual rainy weather to help me process through how best to solve our big problem. You know though, just as unexpected hard things come, unexpected good come our way. Flyering in the rain was really good for me because I learned that except for one house, all the homes that I've drawn near has some kind of overhang above the front door.
To me as a flyer-er, that sheltered bit became my breathing space. A dry safety zone for our pretty announcers and a relief that they won't go to waste as I stuck those cards between each entrance. That space was like a small taste of the home right behind the main doors. Plants chosen and arranged showing each owner's personality. Shoes, big or small, pink and smelly, strewn across the welcome mat. It was funny. I would even imagine an awkward teen standing right where I stood with a bouquet of roses in hand while wiping his palms on his jeans, nervously. I laughed to myself, this must be his breathing space, too.
It made me think...I hope our store can be an extension of that protected place. A place on the way home. A precursor to the safety that a household promises.
Because no matter what kind of people each household shelters the desire to love and be loved, to be known and accepted is always there at that front door.
Home may stir up various thoughts and emotions -- messy, hard, comfort, smiles.
Almost like a memory, I imagine a table with a lot of light and warmth. Beautiful people in conversation and I know each person just wants to serve the other. Their every motion and crease in forehead while the degree of their shoulders and affirming nods expose their hearts of affection.
What a privilege it would be for our goods to be a part of that table! We know the real blessing comes in places and with people we don't see. Past the front doors, taking part and playing a role in actually building the home we all long for.
And to my neighbors, I have to thank you. Thank you for providing rest in my rainy weather. For lending me space to breath and gather stray thoughts.
5000 flyers is our mountain these days. A quite scenic one, gratefully. Maybe we'll see you on the trail. Hope there are Hellos!