As I turned the aisle of the thrift store I saw her. There she was standing tall, all 2 feet, 6 inches of her. She was calling my name, begging me to take her home. I glanced at her price tag, taking a few moments to decide. Then, to my husband's amazement ("Do you really need another basket?"), I claimed her as my own. She wasn't just any old basket that would end up in the storage room until I could find a use for her, she was special. I already had a vision of her destiny. And she was made even more special when I saw one similar to her, days later, at a "regular store" for fifteen times what I paid for her.