Four Pieces Of Luck

I was blessed with a week in which I had nothing demanding my energy.Â
So I mostly slept.
I fell asleep in the crowds of family and stranger a like. If there was a bench or a couch or a piece of ground, I laid down. And when I awoke, life said, "I have something for you."
My family and I went to visit a family we'd never met before. I did my best to stay awake and visit for a little while. The children took us on a tour of their woods in the dark. I wore flip-flops and scratched my feet and legs. But grogginess kept me from feeling it all that much. A young boy said, "There's a deep ditch here. Let me help you." He offered a strong hand and I felt rejuvenated by his act of kindness.
We saw fireflies. I laughed. And then I slept.

The next day, as everyone was busy chatting, and I was once more too exhausted to stand, I fell to my knees amidst a bed of clover.
"I've never found a four-leaf clover," I thought to myself. "But now I shall."Â
After ten minutes I grew tired and gave up, rising from the ground. I walked a little ways, then thought, "What have I given up for? There is nothing else calling me?"
I sat back down. This time by a smaller patch that looked rather wonky.
And there, immediately, I found four little four-leaf clovers right beside one another. I knew if I kept looking I'd find more. But what needed I with more? Leave some to grow, some to be found by others. Not all luck is meant to be mine.Â
I jumped up shouting, "I have found FOUR four-leaf clovers."
I showed them off.Â
Someone said, "Is that supposed to mean something?"Â
I'm not superstitious. Perhaps I just delight in superstitious things? But I couldn't ruin the moment by having them argue with me about how silly this might be. So I said, "No. They mean nothing."
Ah. But they meant everything. They were the highlight of that day. They were my buried treasure.Â
It was as if I finally understood something about luck. It happens to those... who patiently persist. You want a blessing? Look for one and grab it and rejoice over it.
Lucky clovers don't fall from the sky. You must fall to your knees and humbly believe and search.Â

And now there are four little dried plants laying in my journal. What happy little things they are!
And what do they mean, you may wonder?Â
Eh. I don't know. I don't care. They really don't need to mean anything.
Have you ever found a four-leaf clover?Â