It was the week before Thanksgiving, and I was at Hobby Lobby, shopping for Christmas gifts. But I wasn’t exactly in the holiday spirit. My daughter, Kyley, had died just before Christmas two years earlier, and I couldn’t bear the thought of another holiday season without her. My sister was having the family over for a Thanksgiving feast, but I dreaded the moment we’d go around the table and say what we were thankful for. I’d lost Kyley, how could I be thankful for anything?
“How are you?” a woman beside me asked. I guess I was lost in my thoughts, because I hadn’t heard her approach. I recognized her from church.
“Not too great,” I said.
“What’s troubling you?” she asked.
Wrong question, I thought. I was in one of those melancholy moods where I couldn’t hold back. I proceeded to tell her all about Kyley and the coming anniversary of her death. I figured the woman would try gracefully to excuse herself. Instead, she patiently heard me out, then placed her arm around me. “Is there anything special that reminds you of her?” she asked. “Something that you would recognize as a sign that she’s still near, that someday you’ll see her again?”
“Ladybugs,” I told her. My daughter’s nickname was Kyley-Bug. She had loved the little creatures.
“Well then, I’ll pray you see ladybugs,” she said. “Ladybugs everywhere!”
Over the next week I kept my eyes open, hoping they’d come. Come on, ladybugs! I prayed. Nothing. The closest I got was when one of my dear friends called to say that while posing for a family portrait, their yard had filled with ladybugs.
Wrong person, I thought.
Thanksgiving morning, my husband, Joey, and I, and our 13-year-old son, Joshua, headed out the front door to head to my sister’s house. Josh stopped short on the steps.
“Come on, Josh, we’ll be late,” I said.
“Mom, look, a lady bug!” he shouted. I rushed down the steps to see. Josh’s mouth dropped, he pointed at his father. “Dad, you have ladybugs all over you!”
Ladybugs swarmed everywhere! They blanketed our yard, crawled all over our house. Where had they come from?
We got in our car. Josh pointed out the window. “Mom, look at the house.” Thousands of red and black ladybugs covered our home.
I couldn’t stop smiling. So many tiny messengers of comfort. Something to be thankful for.
