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Shamrock Hunting

Reading about the four leafed clover finder's guide reminded me of Nicole. This was four years ago, soon after I had found independent life outside my friend V's cold attic. I had a job but J was far away in India with my parents. I had a room of my own but not a home to return to. Every day started at 6:00 a.m. with a one mile walk to the nearest bus stop. Weighted down by my laptop, bag and coat I felt like I bore the world upon my shoulders.

Then winter gave way to spring and I grew lighter in both body in an spirit. Across the street from my office where I waited for the bus in the evenings, I met Nicole. I knew her name from the ID she had clipped on her belt. We smiled at each other but did not talk. Nicole often looked around in the grass like she was searching for something . I didn't realize that she was on the quest for a four-leaved clover until the evening she finally found it. Her face was lit up with joy. Shortly after that, Nicole stopped coming to the bus stop but she left the shamrock bug behind.

Like her, I found myself looking for the mythic four-leaved clover. I had started to believe that it would bring a rush of badly needed good luck. J and I would be together again, I could return home to a home instead of a room in another person's home. That I would have peace and tranquility I had sought so hard and had found so hard to come by.


I moved out of town, J came to live with me, the job had saner hours and I had my own apartment. Freedom had come in degrees but peace was still elusive just as the shamrock had been. Unlike Nicole, I was not able to find my good luck charm in one square feet of random green by a bus stop.

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