Monday, November 30, 2015

My Thanksgiving story



I have been neglecting you faithful friends and I'm sorry for that. I truly have no excuses as to why I've hidden from my writer. I've known she was awake for a while now but I've just closed the curtains, pulled up the covers, and slept.

I have been quite ill (still not a valid reason for ignoring you) and have drifted through the days which have turned into months and then into years. Recently though, I awoke at the grocery store and that is the story that I wish to tell you.

I was doing my Thanksgiving dinner shopping along with every other member of Pittsburg County and the three surrounding counties. The aisles were packed full of people and shopping carts. Arms reaching up and over and past each other, trying to get the last can of French Fried Onions before someone else could. I shook my head several times in disbelief but continued to make my way through the sea of people, quietly gathering the items on my list.

I turned onto the baking aisle, noting that it was clearly the busiest aisle in the store. There was a lady in a wheelchair who appeared quite lost and tired. I heard her ask a lady about my age if she knew where the baking powder was. The lady replied without looking at the questioner, "Yeah, about halfway up this aisle." She then turned her glance on the woman and with wide eyes that could only express hatefulness said "on the top shelf" and turned back away.

With some effort, the lady in the wheelchair attempted to get herself turned around but wasn't having much luck because of the number of people standing there. I touched her on the shoulder and asked her if there was a particular brand. She quietly said "the one with the little girl on it but please don't trouble yourself." "Nonsense," I replied. "You wait right here." I made my way down the aisle, retrieved the baking powder that she wanted and was heading back when I saw the lady that had been so rude earlier. I smiled my biggest smile at her and kept walking.

When I finally managed to make my way through the crowd and give the lady her baking powder, she was so visibly grateful for my help that it made my heart swell. That night when I prayed, I thanked God for still allowing me the use of my legs. I also prayed that the lady I helped had a wonderful Thanksgiving with her family and, in a moment of humbleness and understanding, I prayed that the lady who could not be bothered to help a fellow human being had the same as well.


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