A Thousand Paper Cranes

Once upon a time my handsome hubby folded one thousand paper cranes as a Christmas present for me. I, know! Sweet. He put his legion of tiny winged creatures in a tall plastic vase where they live on the top shelf of our bookcase. And I love them: love them for the delicate, meticulous, sentimental gift that they are. And, strangely, love them for the gorgeous color collection they embody. That man of mine, he picked the perfect colors for this lovely gift: soft baby pink, bold earthy turquoise, sunset orange, deep rose red, sunshine yellow, lush purple, fresh greens, and blues that reflect ocean and sky in a variety of moods. Colors that lend breath to each tiny little crane as it dances it's part in the wish-granting choreography that is its legendary destiny.
I am not the only one who loves those magical origami beings. Curly Sue is crazy about them. That's why they live on the top shelf, because sometimes I feel a little protective of my special things.....maybe even a little stingy in my sharing? Maybe. But, this particular point of stinginess broke one day last week. I decided to let my big girl play with the prized paper birds with the understanding that if she did not treat them very carefully, this would be a one time thing. She had asked so often, so eagerly, that I thought I ought to at least give it a try. She agreed, so, with a deep steadying breath, I handed her the goods and let her loose. And I did not regret it. Not one bit.
We took them down and looked at them. Talked about their beautiful colors, about the way Daddy folded them one by one. Tossed them in the air to see if they really flew. Then decided to make them fly. Together we piled them in a loose gigantic lump on a piece of fabric; and one, two, three, we held the corners tight and bounced those babies higher each time until they came raining down on my laughing sweetie, lively, lovely, blobs of color falling in concert with her gorgeous giggle. And showering magic to match the sparkle in her joyful eyes. We repeated again. Lined them up end to end in one gigantic rainbow. Then talked about how the real cranes act, flapped our wings, experimented with sounds, 'till our play evolved into a game of animal chase. She the eagle, me the lion. She the eagle, me the bunny. She the eagle, me the frog. Eagle, dog, eagle, elephant, eagle. Laughing, flying, crazy, regal eagle.
In the end, she carefully helped me place each paper crane back in the vase. One wish granted, a thousand more born. A thousand more promised in simple joy, simple faith.