My birthday had been largely perfect. No fuss, no muss. My husband and I sat huddled up on the couch after having put my son to bed, my swollen belly taking up the most space.
"Did you get everything you wanted for your birthday?" he asked.
"I think so," I responded feeling content and happy. Our hands were intertwined.
He reached to the side of the couch and pulled up a smallish box. "Do you think you can handle opening one more present?"
I was immediately curious as to what was in the transformed shoe box. It stood up on it's end. The lid had been fashioned to look like little doors, complete with two small knobs to pull them open. It was the only gift I had received with the exception of the birthday card my son had picked out.
I opened the doors slowly and peered inside. I felt kind of guilty, as if I was spying on someone's life. Inside was a little bar and from it hung green things. I pulled the door open wider and reached in, pulling out one of the green shapes. It was a $20 bill folded into an origami shirt. There were pants and dresses too.
"There is $250 for you to go buy a new wardrobe. I know it doesn't do you any good now, but I thought you would want new things after the baby was born."
I couldn't stop admiring the little wardrobe. I was so moved by the amount of time it must have taken to create. It was beautiful in artistry and rich in love. Sometimes, money can buy happiness.
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