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Compactful Disc

Today is February 1st and Santa has a deep, dark tan by now. We keep our tree and decorations up until about this time each year, enjoying them as winter truly takes hold and the stress of the season has left us and our wallets.

As I put the holiday CDs away, I was reminded, just as I was when I got them out in early December, of a girl who introduced me to one of my favorites. It was at least 15 years ago and she was a massage therapist at the chiropractor I visited weekly back then. She was young, had just turned 20 and was going to school to be a teacher, I think. She was sweet, with an old soul despite her age.

During one appointment, music was playing that was not typical of the relaxing instrumental music or rhythmic ocean waves associated with a massage. It was very soothing, though, and after a few songs I realized they were Christmas songs that I had never heard before. I asked her about it later and she showed me the case of the CD. I wrote it down and bought it on Amazon that evening.

A few months later, my work travel schedule made it impossible for me to continue my weekly adjustment and massage and it wasn’t until the fall of the following year that I was able to stop in the office. It was then that I found out she had moved to Montana or one of the Carolinas for a new job. I never saw her again. 

I am sure she would not remember me, although I am unforgettable, obviously. But every year when I get out my holiday CDs I think of her. I don’t think any of us realize the impact we can have on each other. A fleeting moment in the moment is a blip. But long after it’s left our radar, there can be an impact. Take it from the blind girl: just because you can’t see it anymore doesn’t mean it’s not there. 

 

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