The Red Door

I walked through the glass doors into the cosmetics department, where the elegant sales ladies holding perfume bottles lined the way. Closing time was twenty minutes away. I had no time to waste, so I walked hurriedly, avoiding any eye contact.

“Would you like a sample?” A hand came out of nowhere and placed a piece of white paper in my hand.

“Let me know what you think. It’s on sale this weekend.”

I smiled at the sales lady, thanked her graciously, and looked around for a trash can.

My nose caught a whiff of the fragrance as I was about to throw it away. Suddenly I was transported back in time, right into my grandmother’s arms. It was Red Door, my grandmother’s favorite perfume, one I hadn’t smelled in ten years.

A whirlwind of memories invaded my mind. I remembered her dark hair, short and never out of place. Two small pearls adorned her ears and her lips exuded her favorite shade of red. I pictured her face, wrinkled by time, but adorned with a smile. Her laughter echoed in my heart and her voice resounded in my head.

“Honey, life gives you good times and difficult times, but always remember that everything happens for a reason,” she said on my wedding day, her small and perfectly manicured hands holding my cheek against hers.

“What do you mean grandma?” I asked.

“Just have faith and trust in God and you will always be all right.”

The noise of a crying baby pulled me back into reality. I realized I was still standing in the middle of the store, next to the trash can, almost unaware of the people around me.

I vowed to hold on to my grandmother’s words of wisdom, her love, and the fragrance of her favorite perfume.

I remembered a verse in the Bible, one which became one of my favorites and which has proven to be true many times throughout my life.

Romans 8:28 Furthermore we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called in accordance with His purpose.

I didn’t find what I was looking for that day at the mall. However, I found a red door, that small piece of paper that became the door to my memories, to a stronger faith and to the loving embrace of my dear grandmother.