The Birthday Gift

Today was her birthday.  It was a sunny, pleasant day, not as muggy as yesterday. Too bad she couldn’t treat herself an iced tea.  She was late, thanks to a delay on the tube. It was ten minutes after nine.  She hurried down the sidewalk and arrived at the office building seven minutes later.  She took the lift instead of the stairs.  As she walked through the work area to her cubicle, she caught a few people staring and smiling at her.

She stopped short when she got to her desk and saw the white box tied with a red ribbon lying in the center.  There was an envelope tucked underneath the ribbon.  She pulled it out and opened it.  She took out the card.  It was a pretty card with a bird and flowers on it with the words, “Happy Birthday.” She opened it and read the neat handwriting which simply said, “Best wishes on your birthday”.  There was no name.  Curious, she opened the box and gasped when she saw a dozen beautiful orange roses.  She had never seen roses this color before.  Their sweet scent filled the air.

By now, a few of her co-workers had gathered around her desk, admiring the roses and teasing her about having a secret admirer when she told them that she had no clue who gave them to her.  “Are you absolutely sure that you don’t know who sent you these?” Stella asked.

She shook her head.  “I honestly don’t know who sent me these.”

“You know I read somewhere that orange roses express admiration and attraction,” Ruth commented, looking enviously at the roses.  “These are definitely from an admirer.”

She stood there trying to figure out who it could be.  There was one person she wished they were from but dismissed the thought.  When everyone returned to their desks, she went to the kitchen to fill a vase with water.  She took the roses out of the box and put them in the vase.  She set the vase on the shelf above her desk.  It was hard concentrating on her work as she kept wondering who sent her the roses.  The card offered no clues.

When her friend Irene called to let her know that she was on her way to pick her up for lunch, she asked her to come upstairs.  She wanted to show her the roses and the card.

After Irene wished her a happy birthday, hugged her and gave her a small gift bag, she showed her the roses and the card.  “I have no idea who sent me them.”

Irene read the card and then handed it back to her.  “I do,” she said.

She looked at her.  “You do?” she asked, incredulous.

“Those roses are from my garden and this is Edward’s handwriting.”

She shook her head in disbelief.  “No, that’s not possible.  You’re pulling my leg.”

Irene looked amused.  “I assure you, I am not.  I saw him in the garden this morning, picking the roses and when his pants leg got caught on the thorny bush.  Then, I saw him get into his car and drive off.  He didn’t even bother to pop his head in to say hello.”

She looked at her friend dazed.  “I can’t believe it,” she murmured.  Well, you wanted the roses to be from him, didn’t you?

“Come along now, my Dear.  We will talk more about it over lunch.” She took her by the arm and escorted her out of the office.

“Why would he send me roses for my birthday?” she asked when they were sitting in the restaurant.

“Why do men usually send roses to women?” Irene asked dryly.  “Obviously, he is besotted with you.”

“But, he can’t be,” she protested.  “He’s never let on that he is.”

“Edward was always good at hiding his feelings, too well, if you ask me.  He’s the male equivalent of Elinor Dashwood.  I had no clue that he harbored any feelings for you until this morning.”  Just then their orders arrived.  Irene raised her glass in a toast.  “Here’s to many more happy birthdays,” she said.

She raised her glass, her mind still reeling from what she had just learned.  The plate of flavorful Chicken Biryani sat in front of her but she hardly tasted it.  Could it really be true?  Did Edward have feelings for her?  How she hoped that were true.

“Edward’s coming over to my place this evening,” Irene informed her.  “Why don’t you come over and thank him personally for the roses?”

Her heart did a somersault at the thought of seeing him.  “Won’t he wonder how I know that they are from him?

“Leave that to me.  Come around 7:30.”

“All right, I’ll come.” Knowing that the roses were from Edward made them even more precious.  She would take half of them home with her.  They would look lovely on the mantelpiece and definitely brighten up the flat.

They spent the rest of lunch talking about other things and then Irene gave her a ride back to the office.

It was 7:30 and she was walking up driveway to Irene’s quaint cottage.  Her eyes fell on the rose bush.  She tried to picture Edward picking twelve roses from it, getting pricked and entangled but it seemed so fanciful.  She rang the doorbell, her heart pounding.  She heard footsteps and then Irene opened the door.  She smiled at her.  “Come in,” she said.  “Frank and the kids are at the playground and Edward’s out in the backyard.

“Thank you for the lovely scarf and funny card,” she said, hugging her friend.

“You’re welcome.  Would you like something to drink?”

“Not right now, thanks,” she said as she stepped into the foyer, thinking what a lovely and cozy home it was.  It was warm and welcoming.  She removed her sandals and carried them.  She followed Irene through the living-room and through the kitchen.  Her heartbeat accelerated with each step and when she saw Edward sitting in a chair with his back to the door, she felt nervous.  She put on her sandals, feeling three inches tall again.  Irene stood at the door while she went onto the deck and down the steps.

“Hello, Edward,” she called as she approached him.

He turned around at once when he heard her and then got to his feet.  His eyes were wary as they met hers.  “Hello, Anne,” he said quietly.

She rested her handbag on the table and put her hands behind her back so that he wouldn’t see that they were shaking.  “I—I wanted to thank you for the beautiful roses,” she stammered.

“You’re welcome.  It was rather remiss of me not to sign my name in the card. It would have saved you the trouble of trying to figure out who sent the roses.  I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.  Everyone thought that they were from a secret admirer…” her voice trailed off as she immediately wished she hadn’t said that but she was so nervous and he seemed so rigid.

“Do you know why I chose orange roses instead of red?”

She shook her head, her eyes wide as they met his.  Her mouth went dry as he moved closer, looking intense.

“Not only do I feel a deep love for you but a wild passion.  I know that to you I may seem stiff and aloof but that’s just on the surface.  Underneath, I am like a volcano, ready to erupt.  Am I scaring you?” His eyes were dark now and stormy with the emotions he was feeling inside.

She shook her head again, moving closer.  His words shocked and thrilled her at the same time.  She never imagined that beneath that reserved exterior such feelings existed.

He reached up and cupped her face between his hands and his lips covered hers, moving passionately on them, not seeming to care that they might be seen.  He kissed her like a man who had long been restrained from showing his feelings and was now breaking free from those restraints.  She responded to his fiery kisses, her arms tight about his waist.  This continued for several minutes until the sound of voices reached their ears.  Frank and the kids had returned.  They broke apart. Edward pushed his fingers through his hair as he tried to steady his breathing while Anne gripped the top of the chair next to her, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Let me take you out for dinner,” he asked, his eyes earnest as they met hers.  “I want to celebrate what’s left of your birthday with you.”

“I’d like that very much,” she managed to say.  What could be more perfect way to celebrate her birthday than a romantic dinner with Edward?  She walked around the table to where her handbag was.  Opening it, she took out her lip gross and with a trembling fingers, applied it to her lips.  After she placed it back in her bag, she went back to where Edward stood, waiting for her.

As they walked toward the house, the children came bounding out, followed by Frank and Irene.   While the two girls chatted excitedly with Uncle Edward about their afternoon in the playground, Irene came over to her.  She put her arm around her shoulders.  “How did it go?” she asked.

Anne smiled.  “He’s taking me out for dinner,” she said.

“Well, have fun,” Irene said and hugged her.  “I’ll call you during the week.”

Anne went over to Edward who was talking to his brother-in-law.  The children had darted back inside the house.  Frank smiled at her.  “Happy birthday,” he said, hugging her.  “How was your day?”

“Thank you.  It has been a wonderful day,” she remarked, looking at Edward.

Frank gave them both a knowing look.  “Well, enjoy the rest of it,” he said.

“I will.”  She turned and waved to Irene before she and Edward walked away, his hand reaching for hers.

 

 

Source:  Teleflora

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The Intruder

A storm was raging outside.  The rain was beating relentlessly against the windows.  The lightning flashed across the sky and soon followed by the loud thunderous clap.  She hated storms. And being alone in the house didn’t help the situation.  She chided herself for coming ahead of the family to this place which been closed up for a year.  It feel strange being on her own in this large house.  So many rooms.  So many stairs.

She had come down to check the windows to make sure they were securely locked.  She was half-way down the hall when she heard it.  It was during the intermission between the clap of the thunder and the next flash of lightning.   At first she thought she had imagined it and continued walking.  There it was again.  She froze.  Her heart pounding now with fear.  She hadn’t imagined it.  She heard the jangle of keys.  She wasn’t carrying any keys with her.  Someone else was.  Who was in the house?

Then she heard the footsteps.  They were coming down the hall behind her.   Terrified, she darted into one of the rooms and locked the door.  She leaned against it, shaking like a leaf.  Again she wished she hadn’t come here tonight.  What on earth had possessed her to do so?  Why her parents and siblings were sleeping peacefully at the inn, she was here hiding from an intruder.  All sorts of terrifying thoughts assailed her mind.  It could be an escaped convict and the jangle she heard were his chains.  He had some how gotten into the house.

She heard the footsteps stop outside the room she was in and she almost dropped the candle.  Her heart was pounding in her chest, her breath was coming in short gasps and her legs had turned to jelly.  “Oh please, go away,” she whispered.

Then she heard the key turn in the lock.   She ran away from the door, her eyes darting wildly about the room for some way of escape.  The windows.  She could open one of them and climb out.  She and her brother used to do that when they were children. Climbing down the trellis in the pouring rain and possibly slipping and having a bad fall was preferable to what was going to come through that door.

She quickly blew the candle out and dropped it on the rug.  She ran to the window just as the door opened.  Frantically, she tried to unfasten the latch on the window.

“Who’s there?” a voice boomed.  “You are trespassing on private property.”

She swung around to face the speaker and just then lightning flashed across the sky and she caught sight of a tall figure wearing a raincoat. He was carrying a lantern which he now held up.   In its glow she could make out his features.  This was no convict.  It was Mr. Crawley, the caretaker of the property.  Relief washed over her and she stumbled over to him.  “Oh, it’s you, Mr. Crawley.”

“Miss Catherine?”

“I heard someone moving about in the house and I was dreadfully afraid.”

“I saw a light on in the house and came to investigate.   I didn’t expect anyone to be here until tomorrow, Miss.”

“I know,” she said.  “I decided to come ahead of the family.  I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble, Miss.  Will you be all right?”

She nodded.  “Yes, I’ll be all right.”

“You can take my lantern, Miss.  I can find my way all right.”

“Thank you, Mr. Crawley.  Good night.”

“Good night, Miss.”  He bowed and left her.

She stood there for a moment, listening to the storm, no longer afraid.

woman with a candle

Promotion

She got the news that morning and as soon as she got

back to her desk, she texted her boyfriend, Rob.  “I just

got promoted to Managing Editor.  They absolutely

loved the profile I did on Rosalind Spencer, the famous Haute

Couture designer who recently launched her new cosmetic line.

Let’s go out and celebrate tonight.  Pick me up at 7:45”

 

She could barely get through the rest of the day because she

was so excited.   When five o’ clock finally rolled around, she

packed her things in large plastic boxes and labelled them as

well as her phone and monitor for the move.  By the time she

was done it was after six.  She rushed out of the building and

almost sprinted to the subway.  She wanted to get home by seven

because she had to get ready for her dinner date with Rob.

 

The train pulled into the station just as she reached the bottom

of the stairs.  She headed straight for a seat next to the door

because she wanted to make a quick exit.  As train pulled away

from the platform, she began think about how she had gotten

where she was now.  Writing had been her passion since she was

10 years old.  It was born out of her love for reading.  She was always

writing about something or someone so it was a no brainer that

she would go to Boston University it offered great variety of journalism

programs.

 

During the summer, she went to New York where she did an internship

at Modèn Magazine and loved it.  A year later after her graduation

she got an entry job at the company.   She worked hard, pouring her

heart into her writing and churning out article after article, while

learning the ins and outs of the business.  She hadn’t expected  her

writing to catapult her into this new position so soon.

 

She was to start her new position on Monday.  Her heart skipped

a beat as excitement and nervousness filled her.  She went over

in her mind what her responsibilities would be.  She was going to

supervise the day to day operations of the magazine and report

to Jennifer, the editor in chief who had given her this position.

 

“I can do this,” she told herself, quickly squashing the doubts that

surfaced.  She was going to bring to this new job her experience as the

Women’s Ministry leader at her church.  She already had ideas which

she would run by the team she was going to work with.   She whipped

out her notebook and quickly jotted them down while they were

fresh in her mind.   She was so caught up in what she was doing that she

almost missed her stop.

 

“I’ll do some more brainstorming over the weekend,” she decided as she

hurried down the sidewalk to her building.  “Tonight, I just want to

celebrate with Rob over a delicious Pasta dish.”

 

woman writing on train

 

Sources:  Study.com; Work Chron; College USA Today

Going Back

She stood across the road

Making sure no one saw

Her.  They didn’t seem

To notice her.  They were

Greeting one another as

They climbed the stairs

And went through the

Open doors.

 

It was a beautiful day

Sunny and comfortable

She was wearing a new

outfit.  The one she bought

A week ago.  She got her hair

Done yesterday.

 

It had been

Five years since she set foot

Into the church she had been

A member of from childhood.

 

Her heart was pounding heavily

And her stomach was in knots.

To say that she was in a state

Of qualm was a gross understate-

Ment.  What on earth was she

Doing here?  She should turn around

And get away from there as fast as

She could.

 

What kind of reception

Would she get?  She had been a

Member with good standing until

She got pregnant…She had to give up

Her involvement in the ministries she

Was in charge of and rather than be

The topic of discussion at the business

Meeting so she chose to give up her

Membership.  She left the church and

Had her son.  Her heart melted as she

Thought of the little boy who had

Brought so much joy into her life.

 

She never planned to have a child

Before marriage but it just happened.

And unfortunately, things didn’t work

Out for Ryan’s Dad and her.  They split

Up a year after Ryan was born.

Now she was a single mother raising a

Rambunctious 4 year old and loving

Every moment of it.  He was with her

Mother who had encouraged her

To go church today.  “You walk in there

and remember that you are not alone.”

 

As she stood there now, debating whether

Or not to cross the road and step into

The sanctuary, these words came

To her mind, “But thou, O Lord, art a shield

For me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine

Head.”

 

She felt the uneasiness

Subside and God’s peace come over her.

She quickly ran her hands over her hair,

Smoothed her coat and crossed the road.

She hesitated for a brief moment at the

Doorway and then walked in.

 

Nervously, she approached the two greeters.

When they saw her, they looked

Surprised and delighted…

 

“Jennifer, it’s really good to see you.”

They both hugged her and as one

Of them handed her a bulletin, she

Said, “we are having a special lunch

For visitors today so you’re more than

Welcome to stay.”

 

She smiled.  “Thanks.”  She wasn’t ready

to socialize with them just yet.  She was

going to take this one step at a time.

 

young woman in coat

Source:  Psalm 3:3

Too Much Sitting

Some time ago there was a story on CTV about people sitting too long at their desks.  In fact, some co-workers and I were interviewed.  I am guilty of sitting at my desk and hardly getting up.  There were times when I would sit there not even taking a bathroom break.  And I would have late lunches–a couple times as late as 4pm.  One of my co-workers would scold me for sitting so long at my desk and would try unsuccessfully to encourage me to join her and others for lunch. 

When the reporter came to our department, I agreed to be interviewed because I knew I was guilty of too much sitting.   I told her that I would get so caught up in my work that I would remain glued to my chair.  That day I promised myself that I would change my behavior and start taking breaks. 

I must admit that I didn’t think that too much sitting was bad for people’s health.  There was a recent study in the European Heart Journal which examined the links of the total amount of time spent sitting down and breaks in sedentary time, with various indicators of risk for heart disease, metabolic diseases such as diabetes, and inflammatory processes that can play a role in atherosclerosis (blocked arteries).

It found that prolonged periods of sedentary time, even in people who also spent some time in moderate-to-vigorous exercise, were associated with worse indicators of cardio-metabolic function and inflammation, such as larger waist circumferences, lower levels of HDL (“good”) cholesterol, higher levels of C-reactive protein (an important marker of inflammation) and triglycerides (blood fats).

However, the study also found that, even in people who spent a long time sitting down, the more breaks they took during this time, the smaller their waists and the lower the levels of C-reactive protein (http://www.news-medical.net/news/20110112/Plenty-of-breaks-from-sitting-at-the-desk-are-good-for-hearts-and-waistlines-Study.aspx)

What can we do to help ourselves?  Simple.  Take plenty of breaks.  This will be good for our hearts and waistlines.  I was advised to stand, stretch and walk around.  Take the stairs instead of the elevator.  Get on your feet.  Take action now to reduce your risk of getting the “sitting disease”.