A few days ago, My Chef sent me this link to a story on 60 minutes. I had to ask him if he meant to send it because it wasn't a video on car stunts or stupid human tricks. He got all somber and told me to watch it.
I watched 30 seconds of it before I wanted to turn it off. I was in a joyful mood. I was full of the Christmas spirit. I didn't want to hear tragic stories about suffering (Whoa, wait a minute. Isn't that backwards?) I watched anyway because, if My Chef felt it was important enough to forward it to me, then it must be important, right?
I tucked this story in my heart, but at the waaay back of it. In fact, I didn't think of it when we were organizing the garage and My Chef said "I guess we can sell the single stroller now." I didn't think of it as we piled up 3 totes full of toys the girls had outgrown. All I was thinking about was how much money we could bring in if we sold all of these things at a garage sale in the spring.
But it seems like that story was put in my heart, even at the way back of it, to start to soften it a little. A planted seed, ready to grow a giving spirit, waiting for the ripe moment of opportunity. The opportunity came when a woman spoke at church yesterday about donating to a shelter for women and children. She spoke of their need for clothes and diapers and strollers. My Chef looked at me and said "Let's just forget about a garage sale." And I could feel my heart swell with joy at the thought of how many babies we could clothe.
Boy, I thought I was in the Christmas spirit before.....
No comments:
Post a Comment