sushi from heaven

A few weeks back, on a frigid day, I was walking in turbo-mode in the interest of preserving my fingertips. I was stopped by a man on the corner, selling his poetry. He told me that he needed $30 for a room. "I'm so cold," he said.

His eyes were bloodshot, his skin red and bruised from the wind, and one side of his nose was running. I decided that if he wasn't going to spend the money honorably, that would be his problem. I handed him a dollar, which he took. I hesitated a moment. I knew he'd be out there peddling poetry for a long time, and what would become of his nose and ears?

I forked over all the cash I had--a whopping eleven dollars. He took the money gratefully and I headed to campus, where I was planning to spend a few hours working on a book proposal and munching on sushi. As soon as I stepped away I realized with horror what I'd done--I didn't have my wallet with me and I'd given away all my money. I quickly did the equations in my head: zero cash + zero cash = no sushi.

As a nursing mother, my hunger tends to be extreme, and I tend to fixate on certain foods. It was a sushi day, all the way, and I'd been banking on it to get me out the door. But here I was, with no wallet and no cash, headed to campus.

As I walked, I thought about the divine economy and the possibility that God might just make a deposit into my tummy account. On campus, I headed over to the Div. School, hoping to find my husband.

I didn't find him, but I ran into one of his peers, who was carrying a bin full of food. I cleared my throat, "Hey Adrian, do you happen to have some leftovers?" He nodded and smiled, digging through the the box. He coaxed out a plastic container. "Would you like some sushi?"


Ser said...

Did you tell me about this and I forgot? I remember the title, but somehow I missed the story. Perhaps I was nodding and smiling and saying "uh-huh" while fetching a diaper, stopping a flying fist, and fixing a snack.

This is lovely!

Anonymous said...

This story is beautiful on the outside and just glows on the inside...I feel cleansed by it... Vinh

Dove Knits said...


Ted Slater said...

Hopefully the sushi hadn't been in that box for too long. ;-)

Sushi is indeed divine, but not if it's gotten a bit too old.

Anonymous said...

Julia, I love the full circle of it all - glad to have been given a heads up on the Line. I imagine the sushi was edible, knowing your Father's hand in it. A liminal space is a beautiful thing.


Anonymous said...

Whoops, sorry - *Jenny* (blush)

Jenny said...

Hey Danielle,

No blushing--I'm flattered that you thought I was Julia. Is she a friend of yours?