Yesterday I went to a thrift store, just on a whim. I generally spend a couple dollars at most. Yesterday, I’d been almost ready to leave with $5 worth of items when something in a display case caught my eye… a very old flute.
Now, in high school I played flute. More or less. And I hated it. After college, I gave the thing away. The only thing really nice about it had been the finish. It was nickle plated, which made it a little darker than silver and, in my eyes, beautiful. But practice–ugh.
The one I bought yesterday is probably a ’70s model. The pads are in good shape, but the finish is worn off in places, the mouthpiece is slightly dented, two corks are missing, and the case is embarrassing. I debated whether or not to buy it, and was a little surprised to find myself walking out with it. But after 20 years, I found myself in possession of another flute. If it had been $10 more it probably would have stayed in that display case. But for the price… and so I found myself walking out of a second hand store with an instrument I’d spent eleven years of my high school and college career trying to avoid.
Facebook. Interesting group of friends and acquaintances from accumulated years… I posted laughingly about my ‘find’ and got a response from a high school acquaintance. If I decided not to keep it, would I sell it to her? Her daughter, as it turns out, has been wanting a flute. Wanting one a whole lot more than I had.
Why did I buy that flute? I’m not someone who buys on a whim. Nor am I someone who wanted a flute. But it was there, and I bought it. Maybe, just maybe, God had another intention in mind for it than I did. Maybe for a girl I’ve never met, the daughter of a high school acquaintance I haven’t seen for 20+ years. Maybe for myself. And maybe for both of us. Who knows?