It Was Given
September 16, 2023Whenever I’m feeling low, nothing shifts my mood faster than stepping outside and going for a walk. Inevitably, I encounter something that unravels whatever knot has mistakenly convinced me that things are worse than they are. On one such day this August, I walked to a nearby chocolate cafe, and as I was walking home, I was surprised to find a pen, lying on the ground in front of me.
If I still lived in New York City, this probably wouldn’t have felt all that special. Most likely, I wouldn’t have even noticed it between the black trash bags and crumpled up fast food wrappers. But here, in Ohio, the path between the cafe and home is primarily covered in grass. The street is spick and span. Litter and other stray objects are hard to find. And the “path” itself is not well trodden. Most people drive, but I was walking and there it was: a pen.
Not to my right, not to my left, but right in front of me. Placed at the tips of my toes. And this pen? It wasn’t just any pen. It was the exact same kind of pen that I like to draw with: a Sharpie ultra fine black marker. It felt like a gift, so I picked it up.
I saw a name written on its side in faded black ink: NATHAN. I looked around and decided that Nathan, whoever he was, was probably not coming back for his pen, so I tucked it in my purse and kept walking home.
Like walking, drawing always brings me joy. It snaps me out of the world of words and delivers me…somewhere else.
And Nathan, I learned, stems from the Hebrew verb for “gave.” Its meaning is often translated as “gift from God.” As in, it was given. And so, I took Nathan’s pen, and I started drawing.
the GALLERY
