In the 1970s and ‘80s I worked for the US Postal Service sorting and boxing mail, sometimes driving a city delivery route, and occasionally serving customers at the window. Although I liked handling and delivering the mail, I was never good enough, or fast enough to suit my supervisor. I wished whole-heartedly that I could earn my living doing something that required the talents that I had, rather than finding those talents to be useless as the machine-like worker that the USPS wanted. But I had no other skills, so I felt stuck between longing for what I could not have, and fearing that I might be fired for not meeting productivity standards.
On a particularly depressing morning I was working the incoming letters at my sorting case when I picked up a handful of mail, and my attention was caught by one rubber band among a few others lying in the corner of my tray. While others lay there in the usual oblong or coiled shapes, this one was shaped like a heart. No one else in the office would have noticed this, or thought anything more of it if he had noticed it. But to me, this was a message, sent to let me know that I was loved and that I was not alone with my misery.
I did eventually get to leave the Postal Service, and go back to school for the degree I needed to start a new career. The way was never smooth or without struggle, but from time to time, when I seemed to need reminding, the shape of a heart would appear in some form that seemed to leap out at me. I would find a heart-shaped stone or leaf among others that were randomly-shaped. I would see one or more of them in the grain of a wood cabinet or paneled wall. Sometimes it would be simply drawn on the sidewalk. Each time I would feel the love, believing it to be a message from the spirit wanting to comfort and encourage me.
So, all of these occurrences could easily be explained, though it is very difficult to make a standard Post Office rubber band land and stay in a heart shape (I know because I tried.) Still there could not be construed any intentional handiwork here, human or otherwise. The one occurrence that cannot be explained as mere chance to me was so bizarre that I had to photograph it as proof.
I was sitting in front of my computer at home, eating a bowl of Cheerios with bananas. As I often did, I left a little milk in the bottom of the bowl and set it on the floor for my cat. A minute or two later, I looked down and saw in the bowl a perfect heart where the cat had licked up what it wanted of the milk, surrounded by the remaining milk, and the cat was quietly creeping away to take a nap. I tried to recreate this one and have never been able to do it.
I expect to see more hearts as I need them. They are my special reminder that the loving spirit of my Creator is within me and will never leave me alone.