A gardenia-scented Henri Bendel candle has sat untouched for the past four years. It was a gift from my niece Amber after I had commented, more than once, on the candle someone had given to her. I retrieved it today. Its wick (surrounded by a not-too-thin layer of dust) remains unlit. I’ve never found the right occasion to use it because unlike the other candles I buy and burn, I know that I won’t want to spend the money to replace it. A 1985 essay written by Ann Wells changed all of that for me.

Wells wrote of the day she watched her brother-in-law open her sister’s bureau and lift out a tissue-wrapped package. In it was an exquisite handmade silk slip trimmed with a cobweb of lace and the price tag (with an astronomical figure) still attached.

“Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least eight or nine years ago,” her brother-in-law said. “She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion.”

He put the slip with other clothes they were taking to the mortician.

“Don’t ever save anything for a special occasion,” he said. “Every day you’re alive is a special occasion.”

Wells continued, “I’m trying very hard not to put off, hold back or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that this is a special occasion.”

Thanks to Wells’ essay and Amber’s candle, today my home will smell like gardenias.

 

Ronny Michel can be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com.