Rose found some fortune cookies leftover from a dinner we ordered, gosh, three weeks ago. Ugh, if you ask me. But the girls were thrilled. They tore into them and then Beanie sent up a wail. Her cookie had no fortune. This was tragic.
Rose disappeared. Jane took the the biggest half of Beanie’s cookie and turned away so Bean couldn’t see her trying to stuff her own fortune in the hole. But there was no fooling Beanie. Indignantly she took the cookie away from Jane and disdainfully returned Jane’s fortune. Jane shrugged an “oh well, I tried” shrug.
About this time, Rose re-appeared, grinning like the Cheshire cat. When she is pleased with herself, she brings to life all the cliched descriptions of glittering, twinkling, sparkling eyes. She thrust a slip of paper at Beanie.
“Here’s your fortune!” she announced.
Beanie lit up. THIS, apparently, was no pity-fortune passed on secondhand. This was a real fortune created specifically for Bean.
“Read it to me, mommy!” She handed me the slip of paper.
YOU LOVE WHAT YOU SEE, it said.
Beanie nodded. “Yup.” She wandered away, leaving the fortune in my hands. Rose was still standing there grinning. I asked her how she thought of writing that.
“Oh, it just sounded like a real fortune,” she said. “Plus it’s true.”
Jane laughed. “She’s right. Bean DOES love just about everything she sees.”
They all drifted off to play, and I sat there for a long time looking at that slip of paper, loving what I saw.
The Green Ways of Growing
The Slippery Staircase of Life
With a Bang