Passport To Riches
“But, I just ‘ave to visit Amer-eee-ka, Vincenzo! I want to go to New York City. It is the most fabulous city in the world. There I find the Amer-eee-kan dream!”
My-a hands did most of the talking. That-a happen when I get-a soooo excited.
“But, Donatella…we have-a no pass-a-port,” said Vincenzo.
I stirred the gravy on the stove. The smell—it-a make my mouth water. I grabbed the bread, then placed a bowl of macaroni in front of my Vincenzo.
“Mangia, mangia,” darling. “Buon appetito!”
I take-a deep breath so I can continue to speak to my-a Vincenzo with confidence.
“I ‘ave a pass-a-port already—it’s stored away. It-a always be my dream to go to Amer-eee-ka. We only ‘ave to get a pass-a-port for you.”
I bat-a my dark eyes his-a way.
For sure he-a would melt like a pat of butter all over his big-a bowl of macaroni. He-a do that around me. He-a looooove me so much. I just know he-a let us go.
“Just imagine, Vincenzo,” I said, as I snuggled near his arm. “It would be a second honeymoon. I would also taste the flavor of Amer-eee-kan tings. Like designer hand-a-bags and shoes. Oh…and we drive in fancy limo and eat all the macaroni we want at bee-u-tiful restaurants like the rich and famous.”
“Bella…you-a silly. We ‘ave no money to go on trip to Amer-eee-ka.”
“Ah, but we do, Vincenzo. I saved a leetle bit of money each-a time you work since we were married. We ‘ave enough to go. I make-a you sa-prised…no? We’ll enjoy treasures like rich Amer-eee-kans! We’ll buy all the tings I save-a for.”
“Donatella—we don’t need to go to New York City to find the treasures of our life. We ‘ave that right here.”
“Oh, Vincenzo…wat-sa matta for you?” I said, as my-a hands spoke their own language with angered passion. “We ‘ave none-a dat!”
“We live in a small apartment with only one bat-a-rrrroom. Amer-eee-kan women—they sometime ‘ave-a big bat-a-rrrroom to make themself beautiful; sometimes two! I want to live that-a way while we in Amer-eee-ka. Ours is even too small for that-a stinkin’ mouse that-a sneak under our creaky door at night!”
My-a heart beat fast for speaking to my-a Vincenzo like that.
I bat-a my eyes again and nonchalantly fanned the scent of my perfume in his direction. I waited for his answer and-a hope he forgive me and say yes.
“My darling, Donatella…Your search for riches has consumed you. Your secret yearnings ‘ave blocked God’s way of stirring true treasures inside-a you heart.”
“There’s a story of a man named Ali Hafed, a Persian farmer, who-a sold his farm and left his family to travel the world for treasure. He-a look everywhere, but could not find any diamonds. He-a then had nuting—he-a poor. During that time, the man who bought the farm work-a very hard, and-a one day, he discovered a diamond mine on the farmland. The new owner became a very wealthy man. Ali’s treasure was right-a there all along.”
“I’m sorry, Bella…no trip to Amer-eee-ka. You ‘ave your treasure right here with me,” said Vincenzo. “You just-a no find yet.”
I turned from him; my-a head hung low with downcast eyes from sadness and shame. My-a face—it-a sting from salty tears. I shuffled to the small drawer in the kitchen where I hide my-a pass-a-port. I honor my-a Vincenzo. With hesitation, I slowly opened my fingers near his and let go of my dream.
Vincenzo—he-a look at me with deep love and stroked my cheek; gently, like a father who teach-a his child.
“Donatella…you have your own field of diamonds and abundance within you. God will help-a you find spiritual treasures if you let Him. They mean more than designer hand-a-bags and riches.”
I knew Vincenzo was right, but I wasn’t sure I’d be-a good at that kind of mining.
“You-a so much better than me, Vincenzo. I never look for the kind of treasure you say. What if I no find them in my-a heart?”
“Donatella—we ‘ave love…and we ‘ave each other. Most importantly—we ‘ave God. He holds a pass-a-port for you to get to the place only your soul can take you.”
“His-a name is Jesus—let-a Him be your pass-a-port to true riches, then you will surely find them.”
“And, let-a me mine your field with you.”
”The Lord is my sheperd; I have everything I need.” NLT, Psalm 23:1.
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