The Ostrich Valentine
I will rise now,
and go about the city
in the streets,
and in the broad ways
I will seek him whom my soul loveth. . . .
—
Song of Solomon 3:2a
Our daughter Eden loves ostriches. You know: funny face,
skinny legs, improbable form. She thinks they're "ridiculous." Nobody says it
like Eden: "AWWWWWWK-WARD!!!" They just make her laugh.
So no wonder, when a mutual friend introduced her to a new
guy from out of town, that one of their first dates was to Omaha's famous Henry
Doorly Zoo. They watched the ostriches, and laughed, and watched some more, and
laughed some more, and we could tell . . . that improbable, ridiculous thing
was happening. They were falling in love.
But after a while, Eden and this young man started having
some "issues." Those long-distance relationships are tough. He would mention
friends she didn't know; she would mention places he hadn't been to. It was
frustrating, being separated by hundreds of miles at their respective colleges.
She wondered if maybe there was a better match out there for her, living
nearby. It would be so much easier.
So they had more or less decided to take a break and put
things on pause. But they were still talking to one another all the time on the
phone. And deep down - I know my daughter - she wasn't ready to let him go.
They had promised to get together for New Year's Eve. Eden
already had the plane ticket. She was going to meet his parents, see his
favorite childhood haunts and hang out with his friends in Chicago.
He met her at the airport with a charming gift: two little
Beanie Baby ostriches. She was delighted with his thoughtfulness, and
immediately "Edenized" them with funny names: Mama Gretch and Donald Ferguson. She
carried them around with her all weekend.
She was feeling a lot better about their relationship. But
she was still unsure, because they are not going to be living in the same city
for years, based on the job he has lined up after graduation, and her
continuing education plans.
So she came home, still pondering. And then one night she
had a dream.
She was back in Chicago, and she and this young man were in
a tavern. They were having a good time with the locals, but she wanted to try
the hip and fabulous establishments, while he was content. There must be
something better out there for her. So, in her dream, she got a little uppity,
and left in a huff.
She started walking down the streets of Chicago, but all the
businesses were deserted. It was not a good part of town. But, she said, "I
kept walking because I wanted to be right."
She started feeling anxious. A black cat crossed her path. There
was a scary guy leaning up against a building, watching her. She was totally
lost, and she couldn't figure out how to get back. It was pitch black outside,
too.
She finally humbled herself and called the young man for
help. He told her to look up; what did she see? What did the street signs say?
She was confused. The street signs all said "Strauss,"
followed by a minus sign and a number, in no apparent order. Strauss 1-10.
Strauss 1-30. It didn't make sense.
On the phone, he led her to where he would be. She heard his
voice in a stairwell, walking up to her . . . meeting her halfway. She was
sooooooo relieved. She flew to him and hugged him for a really long time.
Then she had a sort of out-of-body experience in her dream.
She looked out over downtown Chicago and saw all kinds of huge, familiar,
obvious landmarks: a giant waterslide, a really big billboard, famous buildings
and sculptures. It should've been a no-brainer to know where she was.
He said, as the dream ended, "Why didn't you just look at
the signs?" She replied, "I can't see that high."
And then she woke up. What a weird dream! She decided maybe
to cut down on the spicy foods before bedtime. She figured the "Strauss"
related to the classical music, including Johann Strauss waltzes, she had been
listening to as she finished a big paper for school. Random!
But still, there was something about that dream. . . . So she
called him and told him about the long dream, wondering what it meant.
He gasped.
He was hundreds of miles away, but his voice on the cell
phone was crackling with awe and excitement. You see, he took a little German
in school, and Strauss in German means . . .
. . . OSTRICH!!!
The two s's at the end are scrunched together like this -- Strauß - but it's still pronounced the same.
She knew instantly that it was a sign from our Great
Conductor in the Sky. It meant she should look up - look to God -- for what to
do about her love life, and everything else, for that matter. She should stop
trying so hard to figure out where she was supposed to be . . . and just waltz.
Yes, like that dream, life and love are sometimes confusing,
improbable, ridiculous, and, as Eden would say, "AWWWWWWK-WARD!!!"
But take it from Mama Gretch and Donald Ferguson: don't run
away too fast, or put your head in the sand. You don't want to miss your cues. †
