The Day of New Success

My horoscope for today said this: “Mark today down as the day new success was born.”

Who am I to argue? I’m not generally a superstitious sort, nor given to put much heed into daily horoscopes. But this one, which is e-mailed to me daily, is often eerily close to the mark. So I went about my day, hoping that the phone would ring or I’d get an interesting e-mail.

The trouble with recognizing “the day new success was born” is that real opportunities rarely look like such. Everything builds on itself, and sometimes even something that looks bad can turn out to be the best thing ever. Like getting turned down for a job, and getting a better one a week later – knowing that if the first one had worked out, you’d never have found the second one. And you can’t discount anything or anyone. That chatty gal you meet at a party might turn out to introduce you to a new client worth thousands. Who knows?

Mostly, though, this seemed a summer day like any other. We didn’t do anything much, no trips to the pool or anything. The kids and I went to the grocery then came home and made fruit smoothies. I tried to contact a client who is dragging his feet on a project, but he wasn’t in. Oh well.

Later, my daughter and I went to a restaurant to meet her Girl Scout Troop and the girls’ mothers. One of the girls is moving away, and we wanted to give her a little party. The restaurant was packed. It took about an hour for us to get a table – there were 20 of us all together. And it took another hour to get our food. But I don’t think anyone minded. We were having too much fun talking about vacations, summer fun, our families, and anything else we could think of. Moms can be kind of an isolated bunch, even when kids get a bit older – and when we finally make contact with another adult, well, we talk. A lot.

Our troop just bridged to Juniors, which means we’ve been together four years now. When my daughter began Kindergarten, I signed up to be an assistant leader. When I met the other leader, and the other moms, I worried that I’d made a terrible mistake. What if they didn’t like me? What if they didn’t trust me with their children? I wondered if I was keeping someone else from the job, someone who would do it better or the girls would like more. Some of the girls’ moms already knew each other, either as neighbors or through church. Nobody knew me. And my house wasn’t as new or as big, I didn’t drive a new SUV, my clothes weren’t designer and I’d never had a manicure.

What I did have, though, was a big enthusiasm for Girl Scouting. I had been one for seven years. I knew the songs. I understood the spirit. I wanted to do things right.

Last fall we had a “Mom and Daughter” camping trip in a lodge at the Girl Scout camp. The other moms and I had three years together, then, but two nights and three days together helped us drop a lot of illusions about one another. I found out that a couple of the more fun-loving moms thought I was a…well, the opposite. The opposite, in fact, of what I am. I’d been trying so hard to maintain that “responsible” image, that maybe I overdid it.

I never thought I’d have to explain to one of these girls’ moms that we can’t bring alcohol onto Council property – even after the girls are in bed. Even if I’d really love a margarita, too. Not a problem – she was just sort of wistfully wishing for one and offering…you know, maybe next time.

Imagine that! Me, enforcing rules like that! Anyone who knows me, really knows me, would expect that I’d be the one smuggling the tequila.

Tonight, I sat among these women that made me so nervous four years ago laughing and really, truly enjoying their company. I’ll miss Susan, who is leaving. She was one of the best, one of the first that made me feel comfortable. But they’re all wonderful. And the girls are, too. I couldn’t ask to be placed with a better group of little girls, all with big personalities and big dreams. And big hearts.

Toward the end, we found out that our server, Dave, was leaving in a few days. Just like our friends, he said. But he wasn’t going to a new house in North Carolina. He was going to Iraq. The girls made sure he got a big piece of cake, tipped him from their own pockets, exchanged addresses so the troop could write to him there, and listened to his stories from the time he’d already spent there. He’d already been shot in the shoulder and leg, but was going back for more.

We tipped big.

My horoscope didn’t say for whom new success was born. Maybe it wasn’t me.