Every Wednesday I took the train from work directly to my illustrating class at a prestigious art school. (The fact that I signed up for the class was totally God). I ate my weighed and measured dinner in the common area, which had tables and chairs, an open area for displaying various student art projects, and a ping pong table.

Often there would be students playing ping pong. And just as often, the ball would bounce on the tables near me or under my table. I was rather uncomfortable with this, as it conjured up the idea that I might have to interact with the players, not to mention the fact that I thought it might knock over my water or land in my food.

One evening, as I was eating my meal and reading the funnies in the newspaper, a ball bounced on my table and came dangerously close to bouncing into my food. As the ping pong ball bounced on my table for the second time that evening, I asked God for help, smiled, and said to the players “I’d better watch out, or I’m going to have ______à la ping pong ball!”

Amazing. Thank you, thank you God. Such freedom, such joy for me to be able to make a joke related to food. A miracle! This was a true sign of my growth and recovery. I’m smiling again thinking of it.