Spontaneous Joy (Mudita)

 

There was something special about that day fifty years ago that made it perfect, perfectly delightful. There are other things about childhood that I remember as being so lovely and happy.  These memories are of bits and pieces of joy. Like the overflowing joy that comes when during the night three feet of fluffy snow has fallen.  School is cancelled and you spend the morning playing with friends in the cold freshness, sledding, rolling, spreading yourself out in the fluff.  There is the joy of coming back home where you mother yells “Take your boots and snow suit off before you come into this house!” and she makes you and your friends hot coco. 

 

The joy in the delightful day was different because the day was so unremarkable, the joy so unexpected.  It was the Saturday of the Girl Scout tag sale.  My mother and aunt were the leaders of a Cadette troop.  I was too young to be in this troop but tagged along to all the meetings and events.  I loved being around all the teenagers just a handful of years ahead of me and being with my aunt and mother as they corralled them into activities.  The troop was raising money for a winter ski trip and had put up signs all over town about the tag sale. 

 

The morning of the sale, we brought boxes of donated things into the church basement and set them up on long wooden tables.  I loved looking at all the dishes,glasses, and mugs, the sweaters and coats, the silverware, picture frames, salt and pepper shakers.  There were frying pans and spatula’s, coffee makers and tea pots with little cups.  Along with all the costume jewelry, knick knacks and unopened perfume bottles, someone brought a fixed-up bicycle to sell, three speeds! 

 

“Can I take it for a ride?”  I asked my mother and aunt and they let me go all by myself!

 

It was one of those sparkling crisp fall days when the trees were a burst of rattling colors.  Off I went all over town on this big bike with the three speeds figuring out how to change speeds as I rode.  Up and down the sidewalks, across streets, over to the park, the high school, the library.  I went further on my bike that day than I ever gone before. 

 

By the time I got back, they were already starting to pack up the remaining items from tag sale. 

 

“Where did you go?” my mother and aunt cried when they saw me, “We were worried about you?” 

 

But I didn’t get into any trouble!  And that night the Wizard of Oz was on TV something we kids looked forward watching to all year! 

 

Maybe the joy that I have never forgotten came because of the new freedom of the bike, the crisp sparkling colors of the day, the Wizard of Oz.  Maybe it came because I didn’t get into trouble, my father didn’t hit me or get angry, my aunt and mother had faith in me so I had faith in myself.

 

Joy comes to us spontaneously for unexpected reasons.  It cannot be manufactured or forced but only recognized and allowed. We are taken by the surprise of it coming as it does in ways we could never have imagined.