Sunday, November 27, 2005

Small Things can be So Big

I have a friend who used to live nearby, moved to England for three years, then moved back into my neighborhood. Among the English things she brought back with her were these kitchen sponges called Moppits. One day when I went to her house for a party, I picked one up to swipe her sink and fell in love.

Stop laughing.

Moppits are the sponge all other sponges envy. They're slender, but wide and feel good in your hand. When you wipe them along the counter, they clean a large swath, thus eliminating an extra stroke or two. They're graceful, and, of course, different from regular American sponges.

I coveted those Moppits.

Every few months my friend had someone in England ship her a boxload. She'd just gotten a fresh supply. After much whining, begging, and perhaps a threat or two on my part, she threw a twin pack at me and told me to shut up and go home.

I made those two sponges last an entire year. I took care of them, cherished them, and secretly became so dependent on them I couldn't stand the thought of going without.

Eventually, as you can guess, they simply fell apart in my hands. I was bereft. The fat, squat American sponge replacement sitting on my sink made me cranky. So I cruised the Internet looking for Moppits. Hours and hours wasted. For there were none to be found that didn't cost the earth in shipping fees.

Then, wonder of wonders, I sold my first book, and my friend handed me a small package to celebrate the sale.

It was a twin pack of Moppits.

My heart sang. She knew exactly what I wanted. Nothing would've made me happier. Not diamonds, not feather-boas, not even chocolate.

Now, whenever I sell a book, she brings me Moppits. It's a sacrifice for her, to give me these things from far away, because it means she might run short before her next shipment. But she does it out of love, and because she knows how much they mean to me.

I'm sure by now you're thinking I'm one sick perro. And maybe I am. But in this Christmas season I have my own little Magi. And she lives right down the street.

It's not the sponges. It's the sacrifice!

Okay. Maybe it's the sponges. Stupid little things like that make me so freakin' happy.

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Blogger Daisy Dexter Dobbs said...

What a delightful story! Your friend sounds like a real gem, Ann--thoughtful and truly considerate. She’s definitely one to treasure…right along with those Moppits. ;-)

November 28, 2005 1:35 AM  
Blogger Rae said...

Loved this story. Funny how it truly is the little things that give us so much pleasure. I was worried that my honey wasn't feeling as excited as I was about selling, because he was acting a little strange about it. He didn't buy me roses or give me a card or anything, but he did tell me that someone he was doing work on an addition to their home asked how I was feeling, because of the stupid health crap I've been going through and he simply said;" A lot better now that she finally got published." And he proceeded to tell her all about my book. When I teared up, he didn't understand it.

So, you're definitely right about small things being big. =)

November 28, 2005 2:42 AM  
Blogger Karen Scott said...

Moppits are great aren't they?

November 28, 2005 6:13 AM  
Blogger Nienke Hinton said...

Me thinks a contest with the prize of Moppits are in order here...
Great story!

November 29, 2005 8:26 AM  

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