In Case You Didn’t Notice
Becoming aware involves not just noticing what is around us but being open to the possibility that there may be something more to see.
-The Miracle Collectors
As we celebrate the return of spring and notice the transition of nature that surrounds us, may we grow too: in noticing the needs of others, in finding our confidence to be the miracle, and in looking for and discovering the miracles that touch our own existence. This month Joan writes of the importance of noticing and the remarkable consequences that can follow.
Collecting Miracle Moments One Story at a Time.
Joan and Katie
It isn’t an accident that the notion of Becoming Aware is one of the central themes of The Miracle Collectors. Often we go through our multi-tasking lives, not being fully engaged in our surroundings or what is happening around us. While it may be a byproduct of life in the 21st century, the reality is that miracles require noticing.
Here in Aspen Colorado, awaiting the end of winter, I am reminded of one such miracle that I witnessed while writing our first book, The Miracle Chase. It was Christmas Eve, and as if from a story book, the town and mountain were enveloped in a winter blizzard. As is typical in a ski town, not much stops the intrepid skiers who have traveled afar to experience the majesty of this winter wonderland. My husband and kids were no exception, and the family they invited home with them shared a powerful story that I love. Their 15-year-old son had been skiing with his dad and a guide on a particularly steep section of the mountain, traversing through the trees to keep some perspective in the white-out conditions. When the young man stopped to catch his breath, he glanced around and thought he saw something through the swirling snow. Not heeding his father’s urgent message to continue down the trail and meet up with them pronto, he paused and went over to see if what he thought he saw was real. It turned out that the ‘purple thing’ was not a misguided candy wrapper, it was part of a ski, and as he dug through the snowdrift he realized the ski was attached to a boot. He radioed his dad on the walkie talkie they used to keep track of each other and told him what he saw. Reluctantly, the dad and guide trudged back up the slope to where the son was, and together they uncovered the young teenage girl who was attached to the boot and hanging upside down. She had become trapped in a tree well, and were it not for this young man’s curiosity, she would have perished, likely not to be found until spring. Fortunately, the dad’s medical training kicked in, and by removing their own jackets in the ongoing blizzard they were able to begin to warm her up until the ski patrol arrived to bring her down the hill and to the hospital where she was treated and ultimately released. (The dad said he hoped one day these two young people would marry because then his son would be able to say he found his bride under a Christmas tree!)
Stopping and noticing saved a life that day, which is good, but it’s not one and done; stopping and noticing is a lifelong commitment. Travelling in as many airports as I do, the signs “If you see something, say something,” are ubiquitous. It’s a call for us all to notice, to wake up and smell the roses (or perhaps to see a miracle in the making) as well as to question something that just doesn't seem right. That’s what a young woman in Israel did recently in their war-torn country. She saw a package on her bus that was odd. While it was ignored by everyone else as seemingly benign, she decided to take a risk and say something to the driver. He quickly unloaded the bus driving it to the nearby depot and radioed a warning to others. In total, three buses all had mysterious packages on them and three buses were evacuated moments before the stroke of 9 pm when all of the packages exploded!
We were taught from a young age to notice the stranger on the street, offer help if we could, and to not ignore those less fortunate. I have learned it is in noticing and becoming aware that the possibility of miracles grows. (Joan)