Story of a little rock

I was walking and gawking through a historic neighborhood the other day, lamenting the heavy traffic. I saw an apothecary and decided to go in. What a wonderful experience. Here was an oasis in the midst of so much chaos. The store was pretty, smelled good and had soft music going. But the best part was that it was owned by a young married couple. They sat at a table with their lap top and were home schooling their two boys, aged two and four. The two boys listened in rapt attention as their father told them the story of Susan B. Anthony. My heart welled up. I spoke to the young couple, they talked of the joys of being able to spend time together as a family. How beautiful. I wish we could all live a bit simpler. I felt a twinge of sadness for the loss of the mom and pop stores. Then I noticed it. A sparkly little rock called peacock ore, and I knew it had to come home with me. Holding the little rock made me happy. I don't imagine that I will ever look at that rock without thinking about that beautiful young family choosing to live in a simpler way.