I’m Thankful

We walk up to the checkout stand with our cart full of food – and I realize I left the checkbook at home.

“Oops!” I smile sheepishly at my patient wife, and race out the door toward home.

At the edge of the parking lot with her sign, that woman is there again, with her now familiar long scraggly hair, one bad eye, and a nice smile. I’m not sure she knows she’s smiling. Suddenly, I’m a bit annoyed. My dad and I gave you gloves and socks last Christmas, I recall. That was a long time ago. Now I’m really annoyed. Angry, even. Why are you still here?

No, I say to myself, just let it go. You’re not thinking nice. Just let it go.

Well, wait, I say. You’re REALLY angry! What’s that about? Let’s mull this over for a moment.

So I begin to assess the situation critically. Then I notice my car. Or in truth, the car I was driving. A beautiful four-seater, still the nicest car I’ve ever owned. Only, I DIDN’T own it. Some dear friends at church, who’d only known us a short time, showed up at our door the very day I turned our only car into the junk yard – and lent us this one. “But I have no idea when I’ll be able to get my own!” I tried. “No problem,” they smiled. We had it for almost a year.

Then I remember the house we’d lived in just prior to the one that now held my checkbook. Again, we didn’t own it. The two ladies who did were going to be away for several months before moving in. My mom was their realtor, and Nancy and I had just moved in temporarily with my parents as we prepared to settle in the area. The ladies asked my mom, “Do you know anyone who’d like to live in our house while we’re gone – for free?” Did she ever! We were there for four months. It’s still the biggest house we’ve ever lived in.

When I get home for my checkbook, I remember the woman, but not my anger. I grab my checkbook and something else…

I pull back into the parking lot, and walk over to the lady. I hand her a shopping bag, stuffed full of everything I could find that she might be able to eat for a while. “I hope this helps.” She smiles at me, whether or not she knows why. I smile back, and I know exactly why.

Because I’m thankful.