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As a teacher of origami (the ancient Japanese art of paper folding) at
the
LaFarge Lifelong Learning Institute in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Art
Beaudry was
asked to represent the school at an exhibit at a large mall in
Milwaukee. He
decided to take along a couple hundred folded paper cranes to pass out
to
people who stopped at his booth. Before that day, however, something
strange
happened - a voice told him to find a piece of gold foil paper and make
a gold
origami crane. The strange voice was so insistent that Art actually
found
himself rummaging through his collection of origami papers at home
until he
found one flat, shiny piece of gold foil. "Why am I doing this?" he
asked
himself. Art had never worked with the shiny gold paper. It didn't
fold as
easily or neatly as the crisp multicolored papers. But that little
voice kept
nudging. Art harrumphed and tried to ignore the voice. "Why gold foil
anyway? Paper is much easier to work with," he grumbled.
The voice continued "Do it! And you must give it away tomorrow to a
special
person." By now Art was getting a little cranky..... "What special
person?"
he asked the voice. "You'll know which one," the voice said. That
evening Art
very carefully folded and shaped the unforgiving gold foil until it
became as
graceful and delicate as a real crane about to take flight. He packed
the
exquisite bird in the box along with about 200 colorful paper cranes
he'd made
over the previous few weeks. The next day at the mall dozens upon
dozens of
people stopped by Art's booth to ask questions about origami. He
demonstrated
the art. He folded, unfolded and refolded. He explained the intricate
details, the need for sharp creases. Then there was a woman standing in
front
of Art . . . the special person. Art had never seen her before, and she
hadn't said a word as she watched him carefully fold a bright pink
piece of
paper into a crane with pointed, graceful wings. Art glanced up at her
face
and before he knew what he was doing his hands were down in the big box
that
contained the supply of paper cranes. There it was, the delicate
gold-foil
bird he'd labored over the night before. He retrieved it and
carefully
placed it in the woman's hand. "I don't know why, but there's a very
loud
voice inside me telling me I'm supposed to give you this golden crane.
The
crane is the ancient symbol of peace," Art said simply.
The woman didn't say a word as she slowly cupped her small hand around
the
fragile bird as if it were alive. When Art looked up at her face, he
saw
tears filling her eyes, ready to spill out. Finally the woman took a
deep
breath and said, "My husband died three weeks ago. This is the first
time
I've been out. Today . . ."she wiped her eyes with her free hand, still
gently cradling the golden crane with the other. She spoke very quietly.
"Today is our golden wedding anniversary." Then this stranger said in a
clear
voice. "Thank you for this beautiful gift. Now I know that my husband
is at
peace. Don't you see? That voice you heard. It's the voice of God
and this
beautiful crane is a gift from Him. It's the most wonderful 50th
wedding
anniversary present I could have received. Thank you for listening to
your
heart."
And that's how Art learned to listen very carefully when a little voice
within
him tells him to do something he may not understand at the time.
~Patricia Lorenz~ Submitted by Pat Merrill, Ed./Pub ENcourage
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