Pajamas for a Butterfly


Our first community garage sale is this weekend and please don’t ask me why, but I decided to participate, even though our original plans got shaken up when my husband was asked to fly to Florida for one week. 

We had an early start today, my husband had to be at the airport at 6:30 a.m. and I got up with him. I unfolded tables, unpacked boxes and got everything ready just in time. It was windy and cool in the morning, so I set the tables up in the garage and made myself comfortable in a chair and watched people drive by. We don’t  really have big ticket items this year, no show-stoppers or eye catchers that make people hit the breaks.

Funny how people drive by and judge the “bargains” with just one look. Fools they are and I had to smile. Lots of art, crafts and antiques were laying on the tables right beside yards and yards of high-priced decorator fabric. Many just drove by today, didn’t even bother to stop. Fools they are indeed. They missed out on the good stuff, the antiques and the fragile items were placed inside on a corner table, hidden, like I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to sell them.

Strangers stopped and walked up our driveway to get a glimpse of our life. Some were friendly and greeted, but many just started the treasure hunt without a word. “How much is this?” they asked and held up an item with a neon-colored price sticker right on the front.

The garment rack with my clothes attracted the ladies. Finally, I had decided to get rid of some of my pantsuits and dresses that I don’t wear anymore and all of them were priced to sell. I had a marvelous career wearing them; may they give the new owners confidence as well.

Three brand-new Pajamas were folded on a side table, all made out of soft fleece material that gives us ladies such a cozy feeling.

A car drove right into our driveway what made me raise my eyebrow just a little bit. A heavyset girl got out and walked around the vehicle to the passenger side. She held the door open for a young girl, maybe 20 or 25. She had trouble standing, she held onto the car while she unfolded her cane; then she walked up to the garage.

She greeted me nicely, her words were kind. She talked slowly and gave me a smile that was infectious. She talked to our dogs, who were guarding the fence line, and it seems they felt her magic too; their tales were wagging to a rhythm only they can hear.

The girl looked at the pajamas and  picked one up, she felt the material and gently held her cheek to it. She laid one down and picked up the next one. She tested them all the same way, and I could tell she liked them all. She was standing there for a while, trying to figure out which one she wanted to buy.

She made up her mind and put the other ones back; she folded them nicely and neat, she made it look like they had never been touched. She did that with all the things she picked up, no matter if they were cheap or expensive, she treated everything gently and with respect.

She took her time and other bargain hunter joined her and she greeted all of them with a genuine smile and friendly words. The way she communicated with me and other people touched my heart.

We like to call them slow because they don’t talk or walk the way we do. We call them different because they show their feelings openly. Watching her interact with everybody made me wonder about that. They seem to hear a quiet sound of beauty that we can’t hear anymore. They are full of wonderment over things that we all take for granted.

The girl had a good time, she found the glasses in the corner and she found the watch that I had never worn. She felt joy and she shared it with everybody around her. She wasn’t intrusive or pushy -not at all- she felt happiness and she allowed us to be part of it.

She came to the table to pay for her items. She put everything down carefully and gently and I watched her as she padded the pajama one more time.

“They all feel so good,” she said, “Did  you feel good when you wore them.”

“They are new, I never wore them,” I admitted and she looked at me in disbelieve. We talked for a while and she wished me a blessed and pleasant day.

When she left, I felt like I had just watched a beautiful butterfly take off. I had enjoyed its beauty and now I felt sorrow because I didn’t want it to leave.“Why haven’t you worn them?” she had asked. Good question. I haven’t worn them because I love my lounge pants that I have since years.

While I watched her go back to the vehicle, I grabbed the other two pajamas and without thinking I run to the car. “I want you to have them,” I said and she looked at me in disbelieve. “I can’t pay for them,” she mumbled and wanted to give them back.

This girl had made my day; she had given me something that money can’t buy. I owed her -not the other way around.

The pajamas found a good home and will be appreciated in a why I would never have, because menopause and fleece, that’s like an oxymoron.

Afterward, I sat there for hours smiling and nothing, not even the rudest people, could bother me.

special needs 3






22 thoughts on “Pajamas for a Butterfly

  1. Enjoyed your story. My friend Jenny is just like this girl. I love it when someone stop’s to talk to her, even better when they talk normal to her and not some baby talk. And why do they talk so loud to her, she isn’t deaf. They simple gift of p.j would make Jenny’s day too. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Lovely record of your garage sale day. I have a love/hate relationship with garage sales, but this renewed again the pleasant interactions that take place. I don’t like the preparation, but I love the people. Your title was so descriptive of your girl and her pj’s.

    Liked by 1 person

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