Looking Outward in the Winter

Here's a story my husband requested I include in my collection. It's one of those simple, small acts of service bestowed on us during a bleak time that went a long way. Our first child, born severely premature in the fall, was still in the hospital during the winter. It was a black time of our lives. There were many unknowns concerning her future, and our emotions followed faithfully the ups and downs that a child 15 weeks premature goes through. We found it difficult to function in the other obligations in our lives. My husband's work performance suffered. I lost a lot of weight. 5'7" at 105 pounds is scary. Needless to say, keeping up with life's necessities seemed more than we could cope with. Many people in our neighborhood knew of our situation and were wonderful neighbors to check on us and show us kindness in many ways. One act of service stands out. Our little house was 30 years old, no garage or car port. It was a dreaded task each morning for my husband to fight the bitter cold and scrape the windshield before he drove to work at 6:00 am. One morning as he made his way outside to begin the ritual, probably thinking in his mind, "I wonder how I'm going to get through this day. I need to find a time to stop by the hospital. I can't wait to hear the latest on my girl," he stopped and found that someone had scraped his windshield and shoveled our driveway. He was overcome with gratitude. He immediately felt that his burdens were a bit lighter because someone had thought of him. He went to work that day with a little more energy, a little lighter step, and a little boost of much-needed hope that everything would be okay. We never found out who scraped our windshield.

Another time, during that same winter and same situation, a man in our church congregation slipped my husband a $20 bill and told him to take his wife (me) out on a date, and try to forget about life's troubles for a couple hours. It was wonderful. That $20 was just what we needed. Not that we couldn't afford to spend our own money on a date, but it was as if that man gave us an assignment to take care of each other, and it was his money, so we darn well better honor his wishes. It gave us the motivation to go somewhere besides the hospital and connect with each other. It reminded us how much we needed our marriage to be strong so we could get through our ordeal.

I am a living witness that the gut-wrenching hardships we sometimes face are more bearable when living angels step in. Much of the service I try to give to others stems from remembering the things that others have done for me, and how much they lifted me at the time.