What You Ask For

in photography •  last year

Last evening when I got off work I knew I had to stop and get gas. I work 65 miles from home. I shrugged off stopping on the way in, just didn't want to start earlier to drive the extra miles to town before heading for the Interstate. I procrastinated. We had a slow day at the flower shop, but about an hour before closing, a customer had her wallet stolen from inside her car. So, the last hour was stressful, dealing with a police report, a tearful customer, and a missed flower sale to boot. When I finally left work, I glanced at the fuel gauge. Down to 1/8th tank. I could make it to Franklin, and take the scenic route home from there. I drove by three gas station on my way to the interstate. When I exited in Franklin, I felt for my wallet in my work bag. Panic hit. My wallet wasn't in my bag. Just then my son called me from Virginia. He knew something was wrong by the tone of my voice. I explained I was literally out of gas at this point, and was desperately hoping I left my wallet at the house. I was still 50 miles from home. He said he would call me right back. When he called me back, he had mapped out the route to the nearest WalMart, and told me he was sending me gas money. I was relieved until I realized I wouldn't be able to pick up the money without my ID, back in my wallet hopefully at home. I went inside, determined to see if I could figure out a way to get the money. I would be stuck in their parking lot overnight without it! The cashier at customer service said no, they had to have my ID. The supervisor heard my plight, and my son sent the money in her name, so i could get home. She took the time on her break to help a stranger in need. Then she told me the way to the closest gas station, and wished me a good night. All of this was exhausting to me after 9 hours at work. On my way home at last I realized something. Just the morning before, I had been feeling out of sorts with the world. Normally a very giving person, I was allowing myself to wallow in a bit of selfish wishful thinking. When was the last time someone asked me what I want? I inwardly complained. When has someone done something just for me I wailed inside? I knew how blessed I am to be able to give of myself, my time, my money, but what or who does this for me? I kept this inner dialog in the back of my mind until the drive home after the running out of gas episode. Then the lesson became evident. How like god to give me exactly what I was whining, complaining and asking for inside my selfish heart? It certainly didn't come in the form I would have chosen, but he sent it in the way I definitely needed. This is my sincere gratitude to my son, my angel-in-disguise at the Franklin WalMart, and to my Father, who sent me exactly what I asked for in the way that I needed most. Yes, my wallet was at home, right where I left it the night before. The only thing lost that day was my selfish attitude
My son Brian.

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