Small Miracles, Vol. IV
Posted by Ercille Christmas at 4/2/2010 8:43 AM 
Categories: Cultural
Tags: Good Friday;Christians;Jesus;Project Valour-IT;Americans
Categories: Cultural
Tags: Good Friday;Christians;Jesus;Project Valour-IT;Americans
Today is Good Friday, the day that we Christians commemorate the sacrifice that Our Savior made for us, by voluntarily dying on a cross for sinful mankind. “Jesus paid it all,” indeed. Today, I share a recent example of God’s blessings to me, one of His children.
So there I was sitting in my car, going through my mail, most of it considered “junk” mail. I get more mail than the White House! Anyway, I was approached by this gentleman, who offered to fix the hole in the top of my Stang (my pet name for my Ford Mustang convertible). After being my faithful companion, for over two decades, I finally came up with a name, after I was asked by my friend Joy, if I have a name for “her.” I corrected Joy about the sex of the car. I reasoned that a Stang is a muscle car so it must be male. To be politically correct, I hereby offer my apologies to all of those female Stangs out there. “Girls” have muscle too!
I quickly let the gentleman know that I could not pay him. I am currently going through phase two of my “starving artist” period. He stated that it was not a problem. He would still do the patching. I agreed, but could not resist asking him why he would want to help me. He stated that he had parked next to me about twice and noticed the damage and thought that he could fix it. He did not say this, but I thought that he felt sorry for me seeing the duct tape threatening to peel off.
Ariel, Joy’s husband, had helped me duct tape the approximately 14x12 rip, that I had accidentally made in the top. The tear happened in the same week that another driver had plowed into the passenger side of my newly painted and newly hub-capped Stang. Ms. SUV broadsided the Stang. Yet, it lived to drive me another day, week, month, for the rest of its life, and hopefully mine. Yes, I refuse to retire my Stang, especially as its doctor/mechanic advised that the old guy has lots more life in it. As a matter of fact, if I do not keep close watch on it, it wants to take off as if it thinks that it is still a “spring chicken!”
The unseasonal rains in Southern California, had somewhat worn down the duct tape. However, thanks to a 99 cents drop cloth, given to me by Joy, which served as a "raincoat" when the Stang was parked, the Stang muscled its way through those downpours without yours truly getting drenched. I had told Joy that the drop cloth had turned out to be the most valuable gift given to me. Then came Allen and his offer. I found out his name by quizzing him, still in awe of this man who was actually helping out a stranger, in a non-disaster type situation, without expectation of payment.
Allen began the job. He sprayed. He measured precisely. He glued on. He secured. I was sitting in the car babbling about how God had sent him, in between finding out more about him. Allen told me that he is an Army Vet. He fought in the Gulf War. That was enough for me. I knew then why he is such a thoughtful person. I did confess that although I love all of our branches of service, I have a special place in my heart for our Marines. Yeah, I hero worship our fighting men and women, especially “my” Marines! I told him about the Project Valour- IT project, that “I” had helped the Marines to win in the annual fund raising contest, put on by Soldiers Angels, to purchase voice activated/adaptive laptops for injured troops. I am just kidding all of you other bloggers who contributed! I am new to the effort, and definitely not worthy in the face of your efforts.
Allen did not miss a beat, in between listening to me talking a mile a minute, and keeping his focus on the job. He forgave me on the spot for choosing the Marines, over the Army. Whew! I got out of that one. He told me about his family, his wife and two daughters. He also told me about his foundation that he established to help disadvantaged kids learn to play musical instruments. He told me about his business of repairing stuff, Allen Emergency. My interpretation of his company is that he is like an emergency room doctor for anything structural, in need of an emergency repair, except that he makes home visits. He did not ask me to, but I am recommending him, based on the job that he did on my Stang. He could have taken an attitude of, “remember this is a freebie, so let me rush it.” This was no hurry up job. It was as precise and thorough as if I had prepaid. The Stang purred!
I know that by now the cynical among us are probably thinking: “He was too polite to refuse to follow through, once she stated that she could not pay him.” I choose to think that Allen is a decent man who served his country, and is accustomed to helping out, without being asked. I used to have a difficult time accepting help. Little by little God has broken down my barriers of resistance, and shown me what Jesus meant when He instructed: “Love one another.” God has shown me that “loving” means being able to give – as well as receive.
Allen could be one of those “angels in earthly apparel, “ the term I give to those who have come to my aid at various times. I am convinced that this ability to come to the aid of others, is a really unique American trait. I have received more kindnesses from strangers and mere acquaintances in this country, than in any other place. It just keeps happening. I have begun to take notice.
Come to think about it, let me clarify the record. I was absolutely not babbling about God sending Allen. God did send him. Thank You, God. Thank you, Allen.
So there I was sitting in my car, going through my mail, most of it considered “junk” mail. I get more mail than the White House! Anyway, I was approached by this gentleman, who offered to fix the hole in the top of my Stang (my pet name for my Ford Mustang convertible). After being my faithful companion, for over two decades, I finally came up with a name, after I was asked by my friend Joy, if I have a name for “her.” I corrected Joy about the sex of the car. I reasoned that a Stang is a muscle car so it must be male. To be politically correct, I hereby offer my apologies to all of those female Stangs out there. “Girls” have muscle too!
I quickly let the gentleman know that I could not pay him. I am currently going through phase two of my “starving artist” period. He stated that it was not a problem. He would still do the patching. I agreed, but could not resist asking him why he would want to help me. He stated that he had parked next to me about twice and noticed the damage and thought that he could fix it. He did not say this, but I thought that he felt sorry for me seeing the duct tape threatening to peel off.
Ariel, Joy’s husband, had helped me duct tape the approximately 14x12 rip, that I had accidentally made in the top. The tear happened in the same week that another driver had plowed into the passenger side of my newly painted and newly hub-capped Stang. Ms. SUV broadsided the Stang. Yet, it lived to drive me another day, week, month, for the rest of its life, and hopefully mine. Yes, I refuse to retire my Stang, especially as its doctor/mechanic advised that the old guy has lots more life in it. As a matter of fact, if I do not keep close watch on it, it wants to take off as if it thinks that it is still a “spring chicken!”
The unseasonal rains in Southern California, had somewhat worn down the duct tape. However, thanks to a 99 cents drop cloth, given to me by Joy, which served as a "raincoat" when the Stang was parked, the Stang muscled its way through those downpours without yours truly getting drenched. I had told Joy that the drop cloth had turned out to be the most valuable gift given to me. Then came Allen and his offer. I found out his name by quizzing him, still in awe of this man who was actually helping out a stranger, in a non-disaster type situation, without expectation of payment.
Allen began the job. He sprayed. He measured precisely. He glued on. He secured. I was sitting in the car babbling about how God had sent him, in between finding out more about him. Allen told me that he is an Army Vet. He fought in the Gulf War. That was enough for me. I knew then why he is such a thoughtful person. I did confess that although I love all of our branches of service, I have a special place in my heart for our Marines. Yeah, I hero worship our fighting men and women, especially “my” Marines! I told him about the Project Valour- IT project, that “I” had helped the Marines to win in the annual fund raising contest, put on by Soldiers Angels, to purchase voice activated/adaptive laptops for injured troops. I am just kidding all of you other bloggers who contributed! I am new to the effort, and definitely not worthy in the face of your efforts.
Allen did not miss a beat, in between listening to me talking a mile a minute, and keeping his focus on the job. He forgave me on the spot for choosing the Marines, over the Army. Whew! I got out of that one. He told me about his family, his wife and two daughters. He also told me about his foundation that he established to help disadvantaged kids learn to play musical instruments. He told me about his business of repairing stuff, Allen Emergency. My interpretation of his company is that he is like an emergency room doctor for anything structural, in need of an emergency repair, except that he makes home visits. He did not ask me to, but I am recommending him, based on the job that he did on my Stang. He could have taken an attitude of, “remember this is a freebie, so let me rush it.” This was no hurry up job. It was as precise and thorough as if I had prepaid. The Stang purred!
I know that by now the cynical among us are probably thinking: “He was too polite to refuse to follow through, once she stated that she could not pay him.” I choose to think that Allen is a decent man who served his country, and is accustomed to helping out, without being asked. I used to have a difficult time accepting help. Little by little God has broken down my barriers of resistance, and shown me what Jesus meant when He instructed: “Love one another.” God has shown me that “loving” means being able to give – as well as receive.
Allen could be one of those “angels in earthly apparel, “ the term I give to those who have come to my aid at various times. I am convinced that this ability to come to the aid of others, is a really unique American trait. I have received more kindnesses from strangers and mere acquaintances in this country, than in any other place. It just keeps happening. I have begun to take notice.
Come to think about it, let me clarify the record. I was absolutely not babbling about God sending Allen. God did send him. Thank You, God. Thank you, Allen.
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