An Easter Gift

Easter Evening

       arriving in sunny St. George.

       we walk into our house that has been rented for the past six months.

       Three different renters.

Immaculate.

       A cheery potted plant greets us;

       Crocheted throws precisely placed on matching chairs on either side.

       Fresh cut daisies on the patio.

       Too cute.

       A potted plant centerpiece in the dining room.

       Candles on the mantle.

Everything is shiny and bright.

       The mirrors, windows, oven door, showers.     

       No smudges on the walls or door frames.

       Fans dusted.

       Baseboards clean as a whistle.

       Counters pristine.

       Carpets and tile impeccable.

Who has done this?

I want to meet this woman.

       Every drawer organized to the hilt.

       Each towel, cloth and rag folded to perfection.

We had messed things up a bit before I remembered to take pictures.

       Even each shelf in the laundry room.

       Cleaning materials and soap lined up like soldiers on parade.

       Paper towels between each precisely placed pot and pan.

Every corner, crevice, crack and cranny spotless.

I am in awe.

       A green ribbon tied around the extra toilet paper roll.

       The toilet paper on the holder folded to a V.

The garage, the entry way, the patio.

       All perfect.

       Beyond perfect.

“Is she fat?” I asked DeRay, who met them when they moved in.

I’ve got to find something wrong with this woman.

Amy says I’m insulting, insinuating fat is bad.

I don’t mean that.

I only mean it’s not perfect.

I should know.

The next day, they drop by.

(She’s thin and beautiful.)

They didn’t really go home to Montana.

They are house and dog-sitting for their friends up the street.

I thanked her from the bottom of my heart

for this amazing Easter gift.

“Are you obsessive compulsive?”

Amy says I insulted her again.

Inquiring minds want to know.

I want what she’s got.

I want to be like her when I grow up,

even though she’s younger than I am.

How I love the drawers and shelves organized and beautiful.

       Even the junk drawer.

       Even the spatulas and spoons.

I am inspired to go home and start cleaning;

one drawer or shelf or closet a day.

To surround myself with beauty and order.

“Do you live like this every day or just at the end?”

“Every day,” her husband blurts.

How would it be?

“You have to had been in the hotel management business,”

I say to her.

“No one else would know all the appealing welcoming tricks of the trade.”

“Yes, in Montana we ran a Dude Ranch that is rated #1 in America

       and #2 in the world.”

And they stayed in our humble abode, transforming it into a castle

       in two short months.

As the week went by,

       I thought I would find something wrong,

       A chink in the armor.

       An Achilles’ Heel.

Instead I found more order and cleanliness to amaze me.

Everything is clean and tidy and beautiful beyond belief.

Well, okay, the toilet paper was on the roll backwards for me

       But I’m different from most everyone else

       So I can’t fault that.

       In her honor, I didn’t change it.

We just spent a week in heaven.

I didn’t know it would mean so much to me.

I joyfully believe in Fairytales and Castles and the

      Transforming gifts of Easter