Crossing the Texas Border with Spam
It was Sam's idea. Honor a person by sharing an item of any kind. The item just needed to have sentimental value you could somehow explain... to say, you are important to me because.
I received gifts of this kind from the HighCallingBlogs team. Many gifts were shyly given in private. All were (and are) cherished.
But the Spam. Ah, the Spam!
"Oh, I bet there's a story behind this," said the airport searcher.
"I, well. It was a gift."
The airport searcher looked at me with a small smile that said, Sure lady. "Don't touch anything Ma'am." (he said, for the third time). "I'm going to run the bag through again." (for the fifth time) "Without the Spam."
Personal items were strewn all over the metal counter. More gifts, some fragile, some amusingly resilient. Poetry soap, a ceramic butterfly, a baby shoe, kids' toothpaste, a white teacup, a stone engraved with "strength," a handmade candle, a poetry book, a picture of someone in his big-glasses stage (long ago). The rosary was hidden in my purse. The shalom necklace in a small tin.
In the end, I was not carrying any explosives. Nothing noxious or dangerous. Just a crowned blue can that spoke, with a laugh, of love.
Spam and Gifts photos, by L.L. Barkat.