If Qui-gon Jinn was around, he would have told Luke it was the Will of the Force that brought the Jawas to the Lars Homestead, that made the red droid's motivator short circuit so both C3PO and R2D2 could become the property of Uncle Owen so that Luke could be led to Obi-wan Kenobi so that . . .

Well, you get the picture (and I'm trying to save you from a run-on sentence!).

Transport yourself to Earth (wait, that's another sci fi franchise!). In any case, please join me on an earthbound adventure that I'd dearly like to share with you. (And, yes, it does involve Star Wars. It just may take me a while to get to that part of the story. )

In mid-October, two friends and I decided to plan a road trip that would take us from our Great Lakes hometown to the Rocky Mountain State of Colorado, the new home of one of our close friends. The Saturday of our weekend visit, the four of us drove out to Evergreen, a picturesque mountain community with many unique, quaint shops lining its main street. After a wonderful, relaxing lunch, we strolled up and down the main strip, popping in and out of shops.

After a couple of hours of heavy-duty shopping, our arms laden with packages and shopping bags, we decided to wrap up our outing at the local coffee shop. How could we resist the tempting aromas that wafted from the establishment's interior, calling us in to kick back and rest a while!

(Please bear with me. I'm getting close to the Star Wars connection . . .)

Sipping our steamy beverages, one friend asked if I had stopped in one boutique down the street. It had some aviation-themed gifts (she knows it's one of my passions) in which she thought I might be interested. When I answered in the negative, she described where the shop was. It sounded just like the kind of shop I hope to find (unique) when I'm somewhere new. I finished my coffee, and headed down the street. One of our friends decided to accompany me. "We won't be long," I called over my shoulder as we left. Ha!

Well, we never did find the intended store (we didn't have a name, just a general description of what it looked like - which fit almost every shop on the street!), but we did find a shop I know was my destiny to find.

(Here's where Star Wars finally comes into the picture. )

My friend "Jane" (her name has been changed to protect her identity. She isn't a Star Wars fan, but accepts the fact that one of her dearest friends is! ) and I walked into the brightly lit gift shop - she heading straight for the middle of the boutique, I stopping dead in my tracks a mere three steps into it. I had glanced to my left as we strolled into the shop, and what caught my eye but an 18-inch tall Darth Vader nutcracker. Yes, perched on the bottom shelf of a three-shelf array of colorful, whimsical nutcrackers was Darth Vader in all his somber, menacing glory. I stood there transfixed. I couldn't believe my eyes (echoes of Yoda's "that is why you fail" murmured in my ears . . .).

I have no idea how long I stood rooted to that spot. Eventually, Jane came over (probably wondering why I hadn't ventured into the store), and asked, "Is everything alright?"
"Look," I managed to get out. "It's Darth Vader." Not being a Star Wars fan, she is a wonderful friend to humor me when it comes to my favorite saga. "It's waaay out of my price range," I whispered, "but he is beautiful, isn't he?"
"I don't think that's the price," Jane noted. We walked up to the display, and, sure enough, the number I saw on the tag (you see, I hadn't moved an inch from where I had stood when I first caught sight of the nutcracker) was the number of Steinbach nutcrackers in the collection. The price tag was hanging from Darth Vader's wrist. Although still rather dear for me to afford, it was much more reasonable.

"What would "Alastaire" (not his real name. My husband is a Star Wars fan, but why not carry the identity protection theme throughout this story! ) say?" Jane asked.
"He'd say, 'buy it' if it was something I really wanted," I explained. "I think I liked it better when I thought it was waaay out of my price range!" I was on the fence about whether I really should make this particular purchase.
"Can you pick up any additional days at work?" Jane queried.
A light went on! "Oh my gosh!" I gushed. "I can pick up four and a half days! That's nothing!"

It was settled. I would buy the nutcracker, give it to Alastaire to give to me for Christmas. From then on, Darth Vader would stand tall in our Star Wars room for the entire family to enjoy!

That settled, I looked around the shop, and found a couple more Christmas gifts to boot (for my two young nieces).

When I went to pay for my purchases, the saleslady told me her (adult) son was a huge Star Wars fan. Even she liked Star Wars, she admitted, but she had more of a penchant for Yoda than the saga as a whole.

As Jane and I were getting ready to depart, into the shop walked a young family - a mom, a dad and their little boy, who looked about five or six years old. When the dad pointed out the Darth Vader nutcracker, the little boy got so excited, bursting forth with shouts of delight. It turned out Darth Vader was his all-time favorite character!

The lad and I exchanged a few enchanting moments centered around Star Wars - that magical story that bridges the generation gap, that brings together people of all ages from all walks of life. I couldn't help but bask in the glow of what a special feeling that was . . . and is. How lucky we are.

Venturing into that gift boutique certainly was destiny . . . in more ways than one.

Thanks for sharing these moments with me.
Have a wonderful day!

MTFBWY
JMW

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In case you're wondering, Alastaire was just fine with my purchase. It will be wrapped and put under the tree in a few weeks. That's okay with me. I can be patient . . . most of the time.
When I got home and showed my special purchase to him, Alastair asked if we would use it to crack nuts. "Heck no!" I retorted. There is a limit to what I'll allow where my Star Wars goodies are concerned . . .