Listen and wait

Amazing Austin artist Ash Almonte donated an embellished print of a hummingbird for an auction to benefit food banks in the Verde Valley of Arizona. A Sedona framer agreed to donate the framing, and while it was in his shop, a woman came in, saw the hummingbird, and burst into tears. She explained to the framer that her mother, who had recently died, promised to return to her in the form of a hummingbird. She wanted to buy the piece.

Our auction team agreed we should offer to sell it to her, but she didn’t take our offer. We were puzzled, but we put it back into the auction collection and hung it on the wall of the church’s fellowship hall along with other auction pieces.

The next morning it was discovered that the hummingbird had fallen from its hook, and the glass had shattered, but the art was not damaged. Now I’ll take it back to the frame shop to have the glass replaced.

I remarked, “This hummingbird is trying to tell us something. I’m listening, but I don’t get it.” Then I realized—sometimes I’m just supposed to listen and wait.

You write it: When has something puzzling happened to you, and the only thing to do was listen and wait?