The Sage Depot
What We Discover About Ourselves is Truly Amazing
Miranda O’Brien casually strolled down the sidewalk in the small town of Madison, California. She smiled to herself. Miranda couldn’t remember the last time she felt so relaxed and free. When she decided to take this vacation, she agreed to leave work behind her, at least for a weekend.
Miranda glanced at her phone. She had a lunch date with her boyfriend and work associate, Nick. She still had twenty minutes before she met him at their favorite Italian restaurant, La Forchetta.
Miranda wasn’t used to freeing time. People depended on her to get things done. As head of her graphic design firm, she held many responsibilities within the company. Sometimes the pressure became too much for her to handle, but she forced herself to do it anyway.
She continued down Main Street. Cars sped by; she passed other tourists on the sidewalk; there were all sorts of café’s, restaurants, and shops. Across the street from where she stood, one shop, in particular, caught her eye. Maybe the shop’s name struck her as odd, The Sage Depot, but she felt compelled to take a look inside.
Before dashing across the street, she double-checked for oncoming cars. She hurried to the shop and pushed open the heavy glass door when it was safe. A bell rang as soon as she stepped inside.
At first, Miranda didn’t see anyone. However, she immediately noticed a pile of beautifully handcrafted journals sitting on the shelves along with sage bundles and an armory of quartz crystals and precious gemstones.
“May I help you?”
Miranda turned around to find an older woman with an enthusiastic smile on her face. She wore a loose-fitting white cotton dress with embroidered blue stars at the neckline. Her short hair, although white, appeared almost silver. Miranda, taken by surprise, quickly replied.
“Oh, yes,” She looked down at the Journal she held.
“I make those myself.” The woman said proudly.
Miranda smiled. The blue leather cover and hand-painted golden spirals and stars mesmerized her. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it.
“You know,” began the woman, “many people believe what you write in a journal eventually comes true. Most people write down their hopes and dreams in them. They say the written word is mighty powerful.”
Miranda hesitated. She almost returned the Journal to the shelf, but something stopped her. As a child, Miranda never went to church. She grew up not believing in anything other than her career and getting ahead in life.
The woman reached out and rested a hand on Miranda’s shoulder. They looked into each other’s eyes, and the woman said, “Dear, this Journal is your best friend. No one will judge you for what you write in it. You are free to divulge your deepest hopes and desires. Most of all, you’ll find a connection with yourself again.”
Miranda smiled. The woman was right; she needed something like this in her life.
“Thank you. I’ll take it” Miranda picked up one of the ocean breeze candles, “And one of these, please.”
After leaving the store, Miranda hurried to her lunch date with Nick. They had a delicious meal together while talking about work. For the first time, Miranda didn’t mind. During her time with Nick, she felt delighted at the thought of the Journal inside her purse. Most of all, she felt entirely present with Nick. Her mind wasn’t wandering or worrying about tomorrow or the next day.
That night, she snuggled under the bed covers in her hotel room. Her new Journal rested in her lap, pen in hand. She looked at the cover, and sparkles of inspiration rippled through her. She reached over to the bedside table where she placed her candle, struck a match, and carefully lit it.
She then opened her Journal. The crisp, clean pages waited for her words, and she began to write.
01/26/22
Dear Journal,
Today, I discovered something unique about myself, and I want to share it with you.
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“I hope you enjoyed this brief story. You have my deepest gratitude for taking the time to read it. Thank you for supporting one writer to another. Have a wonderful day.”
