At Chez Beaudoin the rule is The Mister goes and gets the mail, but I like to open it. It’s one of the simple pleasures of my day to see which charities have sent me address labels, greeting cards, and writing pads (I’m crazy about paper products of any kind, especially free ones!), what cheques have come in, and who’s dropped us a line. Even the bills are part of the ritual, since we like to give thanks for having the means to pay them. All the junk mail and adverts are then bundled up for recycling giving me the godlike sense of power bringing order from chaos. Kinda tingles. 
A couple of weeks ago, The Mister brought in a weird-looking package.
“I don’t even have to look at the label to know who this is for. Gotta be you. I only get normal mail.”
I squinted up from my soup bowl.
“I’m not sure,” I said, “but I think I’ve just been insulted.”
He smiled sweetly.
“It is hard to tell sometimes, isn’t it?” he replied with a patronizing pat to the top of my head.
“Ha ha. I will grant you though, it’s not the usual configuration for a package. I wonder who sent…oh! It’s from Heather!”
“Your Yaya sister?”
“Yeah. Well, technically, she’s the one who originally brought us all together, so I guess that makes her our Yaya Mama.”
The Mister tilted his head to one side and mouthed the name a couple of times.
“Catchy,” he said.
“I can’t imagine what it is,” I said, turning it over in my hands, testing the heft of it.
The Mister watched me for a few moments, then said, “I know of one sure-fire way to find out.”
“Oh, right,” I said and tried to unstick the seal with my butter knife. “Dang! They must use industrial strength glue on these things!”
The Mister folded his lips between his teeth as he watched me pry and stab at it, then, with a barely perceptible sigh, got up from the table and retrieved the scissors for me.
“I could have got those myself,” I said.
“The question wasn’t if you could,” he replied, “but if you ever would.”
I gave him a dark look, snatched the scissors from his hand, then snipped off the seal and pulled out the most unique coffee mug ever! Around the bottom edge was inscribed, “The YaYa Sisters, Creating a Positive Revolution.” And above it, a beautiful symbol of a spiral, or vortex, which is Heather’s special sign. On either side of that, two pictures of the Yayas from their Jib Jab animations – the first showing us at the beach dancing and singing, although I forget what the background song for that one was. And the second, has us showing off our best moves in Meghan Trainor’s All About That Bass. In that particular number I got the chance to see myself as a blond. Not a look I plan on pursuing anytime soon.
The Mister smiled and took it from my hand. “Well if that don’t beat all! I’ll wash it up and you can start using it right away.”
“No,” I said, taking it back. “I won’t be drinking from this.”
“Because….?”
“Because it’s my ‘runneth over cup’.”
There was silence in the kitchen. Just the enormously loud tick of the clock above the sink.
“Well of course!” The Mister said at last. “Any fool can see that.”
I laughed. “Ever heard of the 23rd Psalm?”
He made a wry face. “Maybe a time or two.”
“I use it often for meditation. My favourite part is when it switches from the sheep-shepherd images to the guest-host idea. Especially these three lines – ‘Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.’ I used to think that last bit meant I should be ‘running over’ with thanksgiving for God’s blessings. But now I see The Divine doesn’t just meet us in our worship, but also in our need. In the Bible, when people were in need, that was when the miracles really started to fly. Christ was always profligate in his generosity. He didn’t just change a cup of water to wine, but gallons of it. Joel Osteen pointed out that Christ didn’t provide just enough bread and fish for the crowd, but kept it coming until they couldn’t eat any more. And even then, there were baskets and baskets of leftovers! Florence Scovel Shinn says that prayer is preparation. When you ask for something, you should make an act of faith, something concrete to show you believe you have already received it. She gives the example of a woman who wanted a radio for her bedside, so she made a space for it on her bedside table and kept it dusted every day. Or the woman who was tired of living in a hotel and wanted a place of her own. She bought a carving knife, something she would have no need for in a hotel, and had Florence bless it. I will keep this cup for cheques, money orders, and cash, trusting to God’s providence to fill it again and again until it runneth over.”
The Mister smiled and patted my hand.
“Sounds like a grand idea,” he said.
I put it on the table in my office and within days a cheque I didn’t think I would get this year arrived and I rejoiced greatly to put it in my cup. I eventually had to cash it, but that very day, another cheque arrived for a book sale. And just a couple of days ago, still another cheque, for another book. Not exactly running over yet, but well on the way.
So thank you, Heather Ferdinand.
And thank you, Divine.
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