Life is rough when you give until you can’t give anymore. But that’s who I am. It’s why I exist. To give everything I have so that people can get what they need…and sometimes what they greed.
Some days I’m busy. Other days I just sit. But today was an eventful day, to say the least. When I woke up I was at the mall. In the wallet. Out of the wallet. Sliding through the slot. Pin number punch-in. Giving away funds. Back in the wallet. Time for a rest. Woops. Back out of the wallet. Sliding through the slot. Pin number punch-in. Giving away funds. Back in the wallet. Time for another rest.
I enjoyed the scents of the mall while my cents were being depleted. It’s one of my favorite places to go. I get to taste and touch such variety.
My owner gave me to her daughter to do some shopping, and I was enjoying the ride. We went through department stores, specialty shops, and a big book retailer. We tested perfume, tried on sweaters, and looked through magazines. But my senses really perked up when I began to sniff the deliciousness of P.F. Chang’s. Mmmm. One of my favorite restaurants. I could sit there all day and simply bask.
One more time. In the wallet. Out of the wallet. Sliding through the slot. Pin number punch-in. Giving away funds.
But this time…NOT back in the wallet. I stay in the hand. We walk out the door. It seems like it all happens in slow motion. I hear some giggles. I feel myself in the hand, but waving in the air. The next thing I know I am fluttering in the wind, falling to the street, coming to rest on a yellow line. Just when I think the ordeal is over, something black and round runs over me, and I am down for the count.
After that I don’t remember anything at all until I feel my limp body being picked up by an unfamiliar hand. I’ve heard horror stories from my comrades about being in the wrong hands, hands other than owners’ hands. I’m terrified. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want my owners funds to be completely depleted.
Just when I think my life is about to end in shreds I hear a voice speaking to my owner. “I found it in the street and didn’t want anyone to pick it up and use it….yes, I know where that is…yes, I’m not far from there…I’ll bring it to you in just a little while.”
While I’m still a bit nervous, I’m starting to feel more safe. Hmmm. I enjoy this car. It’s kind of nice. And it it’s taking me back to my owner…even better! There she is!
I get picked up, placed into her hands, and I’m home…safe and sound. I hope I never have to go through that again.
Even those who give, and give, and give some more get lost sometimes. They need respite, rest, and rescue.
You who give so much…what do you and where do you go to get respite, and rest, and rescue?