(A)
It was August 18, 1999, back near the start of our inspirational trip across the U.S. My husband and I visited a center for children with special needs in Portland, Oregon. After receiving a gift from me, a bright-eyed young boy, Michael, reached into his pocket, retrieved something, and held it hidden in his closed fist. “Now I want to give you something,” (a) he smiled, extending his hand to me. “It’s for luck. I found it this morning.” I opened my palm. Onto it he dropped something moist and green.
(B)
I told Michael that I greatly appreciated (b) his gesture, that I would enjoy holding his clover for the rest of my visit there, and that I would certainly take the memory of it with me. However, I did not want to take the actual clover with me; I wanted him to keep it for himself. “Why?” (c) he asked. “Four-leaf clovers are rare and hard to find,” I answered. “I used to look for them a lot and I never found one.”
(C)
For a second I felt confused. But then I recognized it as a clover that, indeed, had four leaves on just one stem. I got a quick flash-back to when my cousin, John, and I looked for four-leaf clovers when we were about the same age as Michael. (d) He and I would search through patches of clover at our grandparents’ house for hours. When we got tired of the quest, we would each “make” a fourleaf clover by combining a regular threeleaf clover with a stem from which two of the leaves had been removed. We held the two stems together just so and tried to make the combo look like a true four-leaf clover. We never did find a real one.
(D)
“Really?” he said. “Really,” I said, and went on to tell him about how I created those look-alikes. “Then for sure I want you to have this real one,” said Michael. “I find them all the time. Don’t worry. I’ll find another one.” I marveled at the pureness of his loving. And I was struck by the symbolism. For Michael, those four-leafed clovers were like love. (e) He gave plenty away and always found plenty more.