Grace

Last weekend I had what I believe was food poisoning. It was truly awful; I was huddled on the bathroom floor wrapped in a blanket for about four hours. But I knew it would end; I knew that my body, once purged, would begin to heal, and that made it bearable.

This knowledge has come with age and experience, I think. As I child it seemed as though the stomach flu was interminable, and this last bout made me remember an experience I had when I was about twelve or thirteen.

I had been given a ride from my home in Taft, California to Orem to visit my cousin and her family. The people I drove with were members of a large family from the ward. We drove all night, me trying to sleep sitting up while being kicked by the littlest girl, who was curled up on the seat next to me. When they dropped me off, I was sweaty and tired and motion sick, so I took a shower.

The shower in my cousin's house was unique--it had an unlikely, rather large window in it, at eye level. The glass wasn't fogged, but, improbably (for Orem), the window looked out on nothing but a little canyon filled with trees. The bathtub and shower curtain were pure white; and so I enjoyed washing off the travel grease next to an open window, letting in the cool air, looking out on the trees, and feeling perfectly clean.

My cousin and I filled the next day or two with 'tween revelry...shopping, eating pints of Ben and Jerry's, watching movies, eating spaghetti, going to Olive Garden (by ourselves!), eating calamari (the whole baby ones with all their legs....)...eating...

So I ended up sick. Really sick (was it the calamari?). And all the yucky feeling from traveling came back, compounded. Luckily my aunt was an expert in stomach flu and took excellent care of me...I remember a couple treatments helping most of all:

First, the bathtub saved me again. I soaked in a cool bath for hours, until my fever came down and I fell asleep there among all that cool whiteness. Than, when I awoke, I was escorted to my cousin's room, where I was permitted to sequester myself, half-asleep, lying on the floor with a bowl of ice chips, the windows open again and letting in the cool scent of rain. I can't explain the feeling I felt then...clean again, healed, even forgiven. Not unlike a post-baptism kind of feeling, I imagine. My body and my spirit felt well and whole again.

The family I'd traveled with to Utah, meanwhile, could not leave with me, so they were forced to stay an extra day. Making use of their time, they took their car in to get the starter checked. They were told that their ignition was in a dangerous state and could cause a car fire if not fixed right away, particularly before the long journey back to California. If I hadn't become ill we may have had a disastrous return trip.

So we went back the next day...me hailed as a savior of sorts, but mostly feeling wiser, and cleaner, and thankful to have been granted a little healing grace.

(PS, the photo is from rockymountainquilts.com)