Benches

I hired a contractor to remove all the concrete around my house and garage. Not only was it ugly,
water ran down from the stone wall, leaving deep ruts in the earthen driveway. After the
contractor terraced the area and covered it with pebbles, I had to decide what to do with the
space.

​I like rocks so I drove to a place that sold stone formations, benches, fountains, and rocks
designed to showcase address numbers. I was drawn to the benches but the least expensive one I
saw was $950.00. I had thought of putting something in three areas but the cost made me rethink
my plan.
I picked out a large interesting mini-boulder for the biggest space and asked the man how much
it cost. He asked me the size of the space. I didn’t know. “You need to go home and measure any
space you want to put a stone. You’d be surprised how what seems to be big here would look
puny where you place it.”
He was right. When I measured the three spaces where I thought I’d put something, what I’d
picked out was much too small. I went back with the measurements. “What would you like to put
in these spaces?” he asked.
I’d like three benches—large, medium, and small—but I can’t afford any.”
He looked at me, as if sizing me up. “What kind of benches would you like? Moss rock? Blue?”
He named a few other kinds of stone.
“I don’t care what kind of stone it is as long as it’s stone and the dimensions fit my area and my
budget.”
He verified I wanted three, then looked as his book. “I bought a bunch of stone benches no one
wants to buy. If you buy the three I’m thinking about, the cost will be $750.00”
“Really?” For all three? “I’ll buy them,” I said, not wanting him to change his mind.
“You’ll have to take them sight unseen because they’re in a back lot. It’ll cost $350.00 to deliver
them and you have to decide exactly where you want them because the guys only place them
once. You can give them the check for delivery costs.”
“That’s fine,” I said, hardly believing my luck. I wrote a check and thanked him a gazillion
times.
A few days later, a truck with a crane arrived. Two men got out. I told them where to put the
benches. They placed the “Papa Bear” and “Mama Bear” benches with the crane. I watched,
amazed and horrified, as they carried the “Baby Bear” bench to its site because it was out of the
crane’s reach.

One of the men said, “Time to sit and try them out.” Each one of us sat on a bench. They looked
great. Perfectly placed. I gave them the check and watched them drive off.
I sat on each bench, welcoming it to its new home.

What was it like to yearn for something you thought was out of reach, only to find you could
have it?