I was driving home from a cancelled class on Wednesday and was not in the best of moods. I had arranged for my sons to go to their father's house a day early for Thanksgiving break so that I could attend the class. When he picked them up, we had a screaming match over socks in the driveway. Adults fighting about socks? Are we insane? The sock fight, it an ongoing one, and it has absolutely, positively nothing to do with socks. So, when I got school and found that class was cancelled after I had rearranged work and kids, only to find a sign on the door and no graded papers waiting again, I just had another thing to add to my list of things that are pissing me off. #3,242 Ethics Class, right behind #3,241 The Sock Fight, which is really The $27,392.02 Fight.
I was driving home on fumes. My cash funds are running dangerously low. As I was driving on the expressway so near to the dreaded E, I saw an image of myself stuck on the side of the road, walking with a red gas can up the expressway, three kids in tow, silent tears running down my face, only to get to the gas station and have no money and have to ask someone for help. I have no red gas can, my kids weren't with me, and I have friends and family I could call for help, but that was the vision I saw. I stopped at the gas station, swiped my card, and began filling my tank still thinking about that vision. I hadn't noticed a car pull up to the pump next to me. I heard a woman talking and looked up and realized she was talking to me. "I am sorry, I didn't hear you?" She was standing a bit away so not to scare me. She repeated herself quietly. "My fuel gauge doesn't work. I ran out of gas, and I just need to get home. Do you have a few dollars you could spare?" I said, "I am sorry, I don't." I felt an immediate twinge of regret. She said, "That is okay. I understand." I felt a pang in my heart. As she turned to walk back to her car, I saw two kids in the car. The smallest one in the back turned his sweet face and looked me in eye with the biggest, brownest eyes. This time I felt it in my soul. What if that were me and my boys? I can't let those children sit there watching their mother ask not one person, but maybe two, or three, or who knows how many people for gas. I knew if my 12-year-old son was there, he would he ask me why I said no. He would say "Just give it to her, Mom. I will pay you back when we get home. Please, Mom" I walked over to her car, she rolled down her window using her old fashioned crank. I thought I was the only person left in this world with a crank to roll down my window! I silently handed her money. With a look of relief and gratitude she quietly thanked me with appreciation. I said nothing because of the lump in my throat and held back the tears until I got into my car. Thank you to her, to her brown-eyed boy, to my own generous brown-eyed boy, to my family, to Ron, to all the people I know would come and help me without a second thought if I were the one on the side of the road. Thanksgiving is a hard day for me. Not because I am not thankful for all that I do have, but because five years ago on Thanksgiving day my world cracked open, and selfishly I just do not want to share my boys with father on that day, ever. That lady made Thanksgiving slightly easier for me. Sharing when you feel you don't have enough for yourself, giving when you feel you have nothing to give, whether it is in the form of money, time, patience, love, it is returned to you in unexpected ways.
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