I hosted book group the other night.

When Nancy got here, I saw that she brought the lamp another friend said she would give me (after I approved of the style I saw in the quickly taken cell phone snap).  She also brought two thirds of a case of pint-sized canning jars.

“For Holly,” she said while she shoved the box in my direction, and I greeted her in my doorway.

“Tell her I want a jar of dilly beans,” she added.

As I found storage space for the unexpected delivery in my office, on the weight bench I don’t use nearly enough, she explained that she was at a garage sale and saw the eight jars and metal twist-off caps at a bargain price.

“They might not be the right size for beans, but I figured that, if she did canning, she probably makes other things that would use this size.”

So I was grateful to Nancy for hauling my new, slightly used, lamp to me, and grateful that she mentally filed the impulse to keep on the look-out for canning supplies for someone she only knows through her acquaintance to me. It was a very thoughtful thing to do.

For a few moments, I marveled at the way a series of small connections between people can make our lives easier. All we need to do is share the right kind of information; to keep others’ needs in our thoughts.

Just this past week, baseball managers juggled salary allocations within their payroll to try to improve their teams before the trade deadline.  Sometimes, moves were direct, exchanging one player for another or one for another player plus cash.

Sometimes, trades involved multiple teams and would take several years before they could be judged as good or bad deals.  Some teams need a closer for this year’s pennant bid.  Some teams need to build their pool of prospects, young players, so that, as a group, they could PEAK at the same time.

I thought about how, many times, people’s needs can be satisfied just by getting connected with the right people.  That might just involve the right expertise for something, like getting grants or free tutoring.

Just the other week, I reflected on the mysteries of the alley, how objects left in the alley tend to find new homes and new, appreciative, owners.

And then I stared at my almost full box of canning jars, offered as a gift to someone who loves to capture the flavors of the season and enjoy them throughout the year.

Maybe the jars would end up holding bread and butter pickles, or preserves, or Pico de Gallo – made with love from a favorite recipe or, at least, made with a great sense of openness and experimentation (which, to me, smacks of love).

I took the box from the top of my weight bench and placed them on a low profile filing cabinet. No need to have another excuse NOT to use my bench.  Besides, I wanted to keep the pure potential safe so I could present all eight jars to Holly intact.

Many people go gaga when they see a baby. Seemingly carefree and ever so willing to be amused. Observant and brave.  Most babies are not afraid to try new things. And, at this point in their lives almost everything is NEW.

People are enamored and inspired by pure potential.

Maybe, when I looked at the eight pint-sized jars lined up in a 3-inch high box with cardboard dividers to protect the glass, it was like looking at a new-born, stretching unconsciously, wriggling gently in its skin, slowly opening its own clear eyes.

What would the jars hold?  What content, like the qualities of a child, would define them? How might they bring the gifts of freshness, culinary creativity, and care to family members who receive a jar or to dinner guests?

I was so happy I could be part of this transaction even though I only served the role as conduit.  Maybe that’s something for everybody to think about.

If you can’t give someone what he needs directly, and take satisfaction from the positive impact you have on their lives, I’d like to feel that the universe smiles when we can help the good intentions of others along.

Perhaps, I can’t be the healer of a friend who’s sick, but I can drive her to a doctor or acupuncturist.   Maybe I can’t give someone a job, but I can pass along a resume.  Maybe I can’t give a worthwhile cause money, but I can spread the word about them.

It’s great to recognize the part you may play in fulfilling someone else’s good intention.

Helping bring the gift of pure potential to anyone is no small thing.