I was out earlier today picking through the trash for fabric for a new quilt. I pulled several pairs of jeans, men’s shirts, and a dress from one curbside box, and in the bottom of the box found an opened envelope stuffed with cards and notes. It was addressed to a prisoner at the notorious Cummins Unit in the Arkansas Delta (subject of Bruce Jackson’s project Cummins Wide) about 10 years ago. In the envelope were two birthday cards with a young child’s signature, notes from someone who only identified herself as “Baby Momma,” a couple of photos, and a copy of the inspirational vignette “Footprints”:
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was only one. … The Lord replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”