Serendipity and Frozen Hot Chocolate

In reality, serendipity accounts for

one percent of the blessings we receive

in life, work and love.

-Peter McWilliams

Yesterday was the last of the summer knitting classes at Freeman House. Bittersweet evening, it was. I stood at the door as the new needles-and-yarn prodigies shuffled out under a summer night sky, bidding "see you soons" and sweet goodbyes.

It was such a good time for me, and I was surprised how, really, the knitting took a backseat to the conversations and connections going on around the table each week. We laughed and joked and learned and left, I think, feeling as though we were among a camaraderie of women. It was just a bonus that we had knitted yarn wrapped around needles.

For the last class I wanted to make something special. Although I'd planned all day long to make Ina's brownies, the August heat slipped in through every crack in the house and there was no way I was turning on the oven. There was no way I was even turning on the stove top to make pudding. I piddled around the kitchen, humming and thinking and poking in bags and boxes. And there, long forgotten, it was: the Frozen Hot Chocolate. Serendipity.

Perhaps you've seen the movie Serendipity. The one with John Cusac? I bought it after seeing it in the theatre, and have watched it seventy-four-ish times. (At least.) Anyway, the movie was a small boon to the already famous New York City shop named Serendipity and its most revered treat, the Frozen Hot Chocolate. After seeing the movie, I had to try this stuff. So I called them and ordered their mix. They kindly sent it here, to my crooked house, and I promptly stored it away and forgot about it.

Until yesterday. There it was, all chocolaty and yummy and staring at me. I plugged in the smoothie machine, grabbed the milk, and began to whirl. Oh gosh. Oh GOSH. Omgosh. Omgosh, omgosh, omgosh. This stuff isn't good. It's heaven. No. Above heaven. Quick... where's the big bar of chocolate I've been saving? It needs to be shaved and curled and sprinkled atop mounds of sweetened whipped cream!

And so it was. The perfect topping to the Frozen Hot Chocolate in the sparkly dishes on the hot summer evening.

I've always wished, I think, for nights like that. Nights where newly-found friends come together and sip frozen chocolate and knit and relax and ... be. I'd always prayed that God - in His serendipitous goodness - would grant me such a life. And... He did. There it was. Here it is. Complete with frozen hot chocolate.

Don't get me wrong: I don't really believe in serendipity. Not since... well... not anymore. But it's okay. I believe, just like Peter McWilliams, that serendipity accounts for very little of the blessings we receive in life. The rest have - and will - come from God.

And until they do, He knows where to find me. I'm here. With my frozen hot chocolate. With my friends. Knitting. And waiting.

Sipping, knitting, and waiting...

(If you are too, and need some of this Frozen Hot Chocolate, I'll make it easy on you. To order it... for the cheapest I've ever been able to find!... give a quick click here.)