A small detail
freighted with meaning…
For an example from Ellis & Anderson¹, use the DOOR.
I recently had dinner with someone who told me that one of his best friends had been killed in a private plane crash. Something had happened at the memorial service that he would never forget.
At the service, his friend’s wife walked to the podium to speak to the gathering. She said a friend had asked her for the best memory she had of their life together. At the moment, she had been too grief-stricken to answer, but she had thought about it since and wanted to answer the question.
They were in their late forties when he died, and she began talking about a time in their life almost twenty years earlier. She had quit her job to obtain her master’s degree, and her husband never wavered in his support. He held down his own job and also did the cooking, cleaning, and other household chores while she studied for her degree.
One time they both stayed up all night. She was finishing up her thesis, and he was preparing for an important business meeting. That morning, she walked out on their upstairs loft, looked at him over the railing, and thought about how much she loved him. She knew how important this meeting was to his career, and she was feeling guilty that she hadn’t even had time to make his breakfast. He grabbed his briefcase and hurried out. She heard the garage door open and close, but much to her surprise, she heard it open again about thirty seconds later. From above, she watched her husband dash into the house and walk over to the neglected coffee table. Tracing his finger through the dust, he wrote the words “I love you.” Then he raced back to his car.
The new widow looked out at her audience and said, “John and I had a wonderful life together. We have been around the world several times, we’ve had everything money could buy…but nothing comes close to that moment.”
¹Linda Ellis and Mac Anderson, The Dash (Thomas Nelson, 2012), pp. 54-56.