For months now my 7 year old daughter has been saving up to purchase a fish. Maybe it was in response to the deaths of our zebra finch and dog, but she has been fixated on getting another pet. This time a fish, and so, she has been doing odd jobs around the house so we can add the funds.
This past Saturday she was ready to head to the pet store and seal the deal, but before we headed out she and I sat down and sorted the three pounds of money in the jar. She had collected five ones, one 5, and the rest was made up of quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies for a total of $27.43. We bagged each denomination of coins, placed them back in the container and headed to the pet store.
Clutching her stash she was like a kid in a candy shop, only this was no candy shop. It was instead the place where she hoped to bring home a source of fascination and fun. Something to watch over, care for, and enjoy observing. After all, one can’t pet a fish.
We started by choosing the environment. What kind of bowl should we get? No need for a bubbler, since she her heart was set on a Betta. Of course, she picked the biggest, most attractive bowl she could find – a 1.75 gallon Brandy Snifter – which was also the most expensive.
Though the rocks, objects, and plants would be important, we had to match them with the color of the fish, so we turned toward the object of my child’s affection. Unfortunately it was slim pickin’s. Only 3 were left, but she found one that, though small, had fins that were her favorite color – orange, so of course we picked up that one before someone else grabbed it. Once that was chosen we turned toward the decorations aisle, where she picked out some colorful rocks for the base, a ceramic turtle as a companion, and of course, an orange plant (synthetic). We were ready to go, and boy was Anna excited! With my wife’s and my arms full of supplies and her arm’s full of money, we headed to check out.
The 16 year old girl behind the counter was not too please to see us however, when we plopped the money jar up on the counter. Come to think of it, neither was the guy behind us who had a cart full of dog supplies. With a lack of youthful enthusiasm, the girl behind the counter turned to a fellow clerk and said, “They have it all marked out in baggies. Do I have to count it all?” The reply, “Yep.”
With my wife to the side, somewhat embarrassed and amazed that we’d go through this, rather than simply pay for it and take the change home, Anna, the check out girl, and I sorted and stacked the coins. I gave in to my wife and took the pennies home, but the quarters, nickels, and dimes were each quarantined to their specific areas on the counter, and Anna soaked the whole experience in.
This was money that she had saved up. She had worked hard collecting that which would purchase this fish and the supplies. For me it brought back memories of similar times when I had used my earnings to buy a unicycle. It brought to the surface a sense of accomplishment and pride that I had felt, but was now blessed to experience through my exuberant daughter.
After paying $38.25, (yes, we kicked in a bit. After all, the brandy snifter is pretty awesome!) We walked out, parents holding the supplies and Anna holding her prize. We walked out smiling and ready to take care of this new pet. Before we stepped out of the store, however, the girl who had helped us with the purchase said, “Just so you know, there is a 14 day guarantee on the fish and a 60 day guarantee on any of these supplies. If something happens, we will either replace it or give your money back.” “Thanks,” we said, and headed toward the car. Little did we think that we might have to take them up on that offer.
My wife and I were a little concerned when we finally got “B,” as my daughter named it, all situated and the fish didn’t eat anything. We tried the pellets, purchased some flake food, and even got some dried bloodworms which are supposed to be a Betta delicacy, but to no avail. The fish was not eating.
Tuesday my wife came home from work and texted me, “I don’t think “B” is going to make it.” I called, and she said that the fish was half floating and barely moving. About ten minutes later my daughter came home from school, and I received another text that the fish had died.
I picked up the phone to give a little pastoral care to my daughter, and I asked how she was doing. In a quiet but clear voice she said to me, “I’m okay I guess. When I came home ‘B’ gave one twitch of his tail and died.” I could tell that she was processing this confusing loss, for on the one hand it was a creature that had died and she was responsible for caring for it, and yet she had not really grown attached to it.
Over the past few nights we’ve been talking about the experience, and one of the more moving aspects of this was that during her prayers she asked God to take care of “B.” But even more touching was that afterward she turned to my wife and, referencing one of the dear saints of this church who recently passed, said, “Mom, Ms. Nonie is taking care of ‘B,’ and I know they are alright.”
The downside of the 14 day guarantee is that we had no flushing of the body or words to lay him/her to rest but instead had to cash it in. The upside was that we walked into a store full of beautiful, bright, healthy fish. Within fifteen minutes she had chosen her a new beta, only this one is a bright orange/red male. And so far everything is going well, and “Frank” seems happy in his new environment.
I’ve thought a lot about the whole concept of a 14 day guarantee, which in a way is a bit odd. After all these are living beings that are being exchanged. At the same time, however, these are also delicate creatures and the risk of damage or sickness is relatively high. Connect that with our capitalistic society, and it makes sense.
Theologically, however there are no 14 day guarantees. There are few guarantees in life, but there is one thing we’ve been assured by God, that in Christ we are given a gift beyond 14 days...a gift of eternal life. And though we don’t exchange anything, Christ exchanged everything to give us that gift.
In making the transition from “B” to “Frank,” we’ve been able to speak with my daughter about the realities of life and death, and part of those discussions are about how we can’t just exchange our lives for a different one. Instead, we are invited live life to the fullest, and part of what I am sharing with my daughter is that we can live in this way because of the life Christ exchanged for us, a life that is full, eternal, and not only brings joy but shares joy with all of God’s children.
How are you living your life? Wishing for an exchange or living into every day?
This past Saturday she was ready to head to the pet store and seal the deal, but before we headed out she and I sat down and sorted the three pounds of money in the jar. She had collected five ones, one 5, and the rest was made up of quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies for a total of $27.43. We bagged each denomination of coins, placed them back in the container and headed to the pet store.Clutching her stash she was like a kid in a candy shop, only this was no candy shop. It was instead the place where she hoped to bring home a source of fascination and fun. Something to watch over, care for, and enjoy observing. After all, one can’t pet a fish.
We started by choosing the environment. What kind of bowl should we get? No need for a bubbler, since she her heart was set on a Betta. Of course, she picked the biggest, most attractive bowl she could find – a 1.75 gallon Brandy Snifter – which was also the most expensive.
Though the rocks, objects, and plants would be important, we had to match them with the color of the fish, so we turned toward the object of my child’s affection. Unfortunately it was slim pickin’s. Only 3 were left, but she found one that, though small, had fins that were her favorite color – orange, so of course we picked up that one before someone else grabbed it. Once that was chosen we turned toward the decorations aisle, where she picked out some colorful rocks for the base, a ceramic turtle as a companion, and of course, an orange plant (synthetic). We were ready to go, and boy was Anna excited! With my wife’s and my arms full of supplies and her arm’s full of money, we headed to check out.
The 16 year old girl behind the counter was not too please to see us however, when we plopped the money jar up on the counter. Come to think of it, neither was the guy behind us who had a cart full of dog supplies. With a lack of youthful enthusiasm, the girl behind the counter turned to a fellow clerk and said, “They have it all marked out in baggies. Do I have to count it all?” The reply, “Yep.”
With my wife to the side, somewhat embarrassed and amazed that we’d go through this, rather than simply pay for it and take the change home, Anna, the check out girl, and I sorted and stacked the coins. I gave in to my wife and took the pennies home, but the quarters, nickels, and dimes were each quarantined to their specific areas on the counter, and Anna soaked the whole experience in.
This was money that she had saved up. She had worked hard collecting that which would purchase this fish and the supplies. For me it brought back memories of similar times when I had used my earnings to buy a unicycle. It brought to the surface a sense of accomplishment and pride that I had felt, but was now blessed to experience through my exuberant daughter.
After paying $38.25, (yes, we kicked in a bit. After all, the brandy snifter is pretty awesome!) We walked out, parents holding the supplies and Anna holding her prize. We walked out smiling and ready to take care of this new pet. Before we stepped out of the store, however, the girl who had helped us with the purchase said, “Just so you know, there is a 14 day guarantee on the fish and a 60 day guarantee on any of these supplies. If something happens, we will either replace it or give your money back.” “Thanks,” we said, and headed toward the car. Little did we think that we might have to take them up on that offer.
My wife and I were a little concerned when we finally got “B,” as my daughter named it, all situated and the fish didn’t eat anything. We tried the pellets, purchased some flake food, and even got some dried bloodworms which are supposed to be a Betta delicacy, but to no avail. The fish was not eating.
Tuesday my wife came home from work and texted me, “I don’t think “B” is going to make it.” I called, and she said that the fish was half floating and barely moving. About ten minutes later my daughter came home from school, and I received another text that the fish had died.
I picked up the phone to give a little pastoral care to my daughter, and I asked how she was doing. In a quiet but clear voice she said to me, “I’m okay I guess. When I came home ‘B’ gave one twitch of his tail and died.” I could tell that she was processing this confusing loss, for on the one hand it was a creature that had died and she was responsible for caring for it, and yet she had not really grown attached to it.
Over the past few nights we’ve been talking about the experience, and one of the more moving aspects of this was that during her prayers she asked God to take care of “B.” But even more touching was that afterward she turned to my wife and, referencing one of the dear saints of this church who recently passed, said, “Mom, Ms. Nonie is taking care of ‘B,’ and I know they are alright.”
The downside of the 14 day guarantee is that we had no flushing of the body or words to lay him/her to rest but instead had to cash it in. The upside was that we walked into a store full of beautiful, bright, healthy fish. Within fifteen minutes she had chosen her a new beta, only this one is a bright orange/red male. And so far everything is going well, and “Frank” seems happy in his new environment.
I’ve thought a lot about the whole concept of a 14 day guarantee, which in a way is a bit odd. After all these are living beings that are being exchanged. At the same time, however, these are also delicate creatures and the risk of damage or sickness is relatively high. Connect that with our capitalistic society, and it makes sense.Theologically, however there are no 14 day guarantees. There are few guarantees in life, but there is one thing we’ve been assured by God, that in Christ we are given a gift beyond 14 days...a gift of eternal life. And though we don’t exchange anything, Christ exchanged everything to give us that gift.
In making the transition from “B” to “Frank,” we’ve been able to speak with my daughter about the realities of life and death, and part of those discussions are about how we can’t just exchange our lives for a different one. Instead, we are invited live life to the fullest, and part of what I am sharing with my daughter is that we can live in this way because of the life Christ exchanged for us, a life that is full, eternal, and not only brings joy but shares joy with all of God’s children.
How are you living your life? Wishing for an exchange or living into every day?
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