Because Celebration Can Break Out Any Moment

I suppose it might have been the glinting reflection off the metal.  Otherwise, I don't know what caused me to notice.  I don't usually study the contents of passing cars -- especially on the freeway.  Whatever the reason, as I pulled by in the left-hand lane I turned to the right to pay closer attention to the one I was passing.  There in the car beside me was an aging African-American woman with close-cut graying hair.  She reminded me of a middle school assistant principal my kids had known and loved -- strong and lean, affectionate but tough; the kind of person you could trust with your aches while fully aware that her counsel could well be to "buck it up" and "get back into the game."  Beside me on the highway, in other words, was a woman who gave off sturdy, caring vibes, even at 70 miles per hour.

But it was the tambourine that snagged my imagination.  It wasn't laying in the passenger seat.  I couldn't have seen it if it were.  It wasn't in the backseat, out of the way.  It was resting on the dashboard, just above the steering wheel, as if ready to be shaken.  My guess is that it often is.

I like that idea.  You can't always tell, after all, when the need for praise might come along and surprise.  Never mind all that, suggested this woman I was passing.  The solution is to always be ready when it happens.  Green light just in the nick of time?  Grab that tambourine.  Swerve to miss a car dangerously out of control?  Go on and shake it.  Windshield perfectly framing a rainbow up ahead?  Cause for celebration.  Coasting on fumes to a stop beside a gas pump?  Thank goodness a tambourine is there when you need one.

I think this woman is on to an idea that could very well catch on.  No one, after all, can predict when hallelujah moments might come.  Why not just always be ready to contribute your note of praise?  Come to think of it, I already have the tambourine, buried in a bag beside the piano.  What good is it doing there?  Praise could break out any time and I would like to be ready --

  -- to notice;
  -- to be grateful;
  -- and to joyfully add my voice.

Or the shake of a nearby tambourine.

I drove on, envious of her forethought; somehow alerted and more attentive even if musically unprepared for happy eventualities that might fortuitously greet me.  You never know, but some things are too precious to be caught unprepared.