A Tale of the Lost Leather Wrist Bag

The air was a white, pearlescent haze as I walked upon the street cobblestones along some quaint shops in a New England village. A small leather bag hanged from my right wrist and in it were my credit cards, driver’s license, passport, and some dollar bills. I felt uncomfortable with the small bag as it was not the shoulder bag I usually carry around.

After walking a while, I sought refuge in a furniture store where I could rest my aching feet. It was then when I noticed that my little leather bag was no longer around my wrist. Suddenly I felt a whirlwind of panic — I have lost the objects of my identity!  In the midst of my bewilderment, a kind, middle-aged lady approached me and I told her my plight.  With a sweet, soothing voice she said, “My dear, everything can be replaced”.

I blinked and rubbed my eyes. It was all a dream.   

The leather wrist bag flashed in my mind and immediately I was smacked with a shock of recognition: it was the exact same bag my father had given me to hold my passport, plane ticket and three single dollar bills when I left home decades ago to pursue graduate studies in a foreign land.

All I owned when I embarked on the plane were three single dollar bills, a few clothes in a small suitcase, and my name.

In a faraway land, God has faithfully provided for me through the promise of each new day, especially through difficult circumstances, across the landscapes of the seasons and the years.

In this life I can easily misplace so many worldly “things” which can be replaced. What I cannot lose is the essence of who I am as a child of God. Though the seedling has grown into a strong, tall tree which blossoms every spring, I am that same young lady who left everything behind, flew towards the stars, crossed oceans and mountains, to pursue a dream.

D. G. Vachal © 2024

Image by Kanenori @ Pixabay