A Gratuitous Duck
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Maybe I don’t get out much. But I have always heard the word gratuitous associated with “gratuitous sex and violence” in movies I don’t want to see. Other negative connotations include a gratuitous insult or a gratuitous humiliation.
The definition I always assumed was that gratuitous meant unnecessary, arbitrary, indefensible, senseless, and unjustifiable. Until I purchased a gratuitous duck.
On my day off, a friend and I were visiting an art gallery in Brattleboro, Vermont. I was not intending to buy a duck. I did not need a duck. I was not looking for a duck or any other sculptures of farmyard animals
But there that duck was, with soulful eyes. Standing a full sixteen-inches tall, made with a hand-carved wooden body, a metal neck and head—a handsome piece of primitive folk art. While it clearly belonged in the mallard family, the colors were a beautiful blend of gold and green. I was surprised to find out that the duck was not very expensive. Completely on impulse, caught up in some whimsy I did not understand, I purchased said duck, intending to place it in the foyer of our home. But this duck gives me such delight that it is now sitting in our living room. Every time I see it, I smile.
It has been hard to explain to my family why I felt the need to purchase this rather large, multi-colored, aquatic bird. And then, someone told me it was a “gratuitous duck.” I assumed initially that this was an insult, a way of saying that the purchase had been frivolous and indulgent. But no. I was introduced to the other meanings of the word gratuitous.
Gratuitous comes from the same root as gift, pleasing, gratitude, and grace. Latin: gratis. Something that comes to us as a free gift, as a spontaneous and unmerited, unlooked for and unbidden gift is a “gratuitous gift.” Theologically, grace is often referred to as “gratuitous grace.”
I had not earned this duck, hoped for it, or searched for it. I wasn’t even conscious that I wanted it, let alone needed it. Yet, there it sits, in a central place of my living room, offering a blessing that partly has to do with beauty and partly to do with something more mysterious.
The universe offers many uninvited gifts. Some seem unnecessarily harsh and capricious. I’m never happy with such “gifts”—I resist them, resent them, wail against them, and fiercely wish they had not found their way to my address.
And then other gifts are sheer grace, absolutely gratuitous, in the best sense of the word. A smile from a stranger, the first warm day of spring, a flower coming up through an old icy snowdrift, an email from a long-lost friend, a word of encouragement from a colleague. I just need to focus on the truth that grace shows up in surprising ways.
I have a duck to prove it.
Published by Skinner House in 2007 in the UUA Meditation Manual Amethyst Beach: Meditations. Available from the UUA bookstore or 800-215-9076.
- A Gratuitous Duck - December 1, 2013
- Gratitude - May 1, 2011
