In the gutter

I was walking with a friend in Manhattan yesterday. He offered to carry my bag.

"I want to give," I told him amidst the bustle. "I'm in a place right now where I have a strong urge to give to others in a meaningful way."

He smiled the kind of smile that has a gentleness to it. He can be almost childlike pure in his expression when something resonates with him. He stopped to feed some pigeons.

"That's the lesson," he said.

I knew what he meant. I've been feeling abundant. The result is a persistent desire to do unto others. It's like a natural flow. He sensed it, being a healer and all.

Suddenly he stopped and bent over to pick up something by the curb. It was a gritty street, so I wondered what had captured his attention. As he stood and turned he held in his hand a gorgeous, intact red rose. The petals were large and untainted.

"Sometimes you can find a rose in the gutter," he said. This time he flashed the high-octane version of the smile. Then he handed it to me.

Now it sits in a bone-colored dish in my home, stark and silky. The petals have separated. Even as it comes apart, its form is breathtaking and vivid.

More abundance has come my way. Lucky me.