No
one has ever become poor by giving. ~ Anne Frank
Thanksgiving Day 2013 did not unfold exactly as we expected,
but there certainly was plenty to be thankful for. Late Wednesday afternoon, we found out
that the family member we had expected to be hosting our traditional feast had
been in the hospital with kidney stones. Fortunately, a stop at the store on
the way home from work by my son-in-love, Doug, produced a turkey and the
makings for dressing.
Besides the sheer joy of being alive and spending time
together, a highlight of the event was waiting to welcome the last walker
across the finish line, a veteran who had one leg. It is hard to feel anything
but blessed when you see how much some people are able to do with their lives,
in spite of challenges along the way.
So after the Borodash and breakfast at Cracker Barrel, we
headed to the house to begin preparing our Thanksgiving meal. We began slicing
apples and making preparations to get the pie into the oven. We had planned to
take the famous Dutch apple pie—using a recipe cobbled
together by my daughter, Stacey, following the death of her Grandma Smith. This year (hoping to move closer to the desired results of my mom’s pie), I brought a
different recipe with me.
We realized we did not have any cornstarch. The Publix
around the corner was closed so their employees (including our grandson, Adam) could
enjoy Thanksgiving with their families. Walmart is quite a bit farther away, and
likely would have been filled with shoppers getting a head-start on the Black Friday
specials. The apple slices were already turning brown (and we were waiting for
the pie to come out of the oven for the turkey to go in).
Only needing ¼ cup of cornstarch, I sent my daughter
(Stacey), and husband (John), and granddogger (Baxter), out to knock on
neighbor’s doors. The first few houses, no one answered the door. The next
house is occupied by a Hispanic family. The parents’ English would best be
described as little-to-none. The young daughter tried unsuccessfully to translate. With the
dad on his hands and knees mopping the kitchen floor in preparation for
their own guests, the family graciously invited Stacey in,
opened all their cupboards for her to look for what she needed. Even so, she returned
without any cornstarch.
We were in the process of trying to make substitutions,
when we heard a knock on the door. The young girl and her younger brother were standing there, having been sent over with a container of what turned out to be flour. Stacey told them she had
flour, but thanked them for trying.
A few minutes later, another knock on the
door, and they had returned with this box!
As Stacey and I took out the needed amount, thanked them, and turned back to the preparations of the pie, I was
choking back tears thinking of loving and generous hearts that would motivate you to go to that extent to help
someone. I was reminded of the stories of Jesus about going the extra mile.
I
may never know the details of the conversations between this young girl and her family, but I
will always remember the unexpected gifts of this Thanksgiving Day.
