Christmas is over. Bells have been rung. Carols sung. Gift wrap flung.
December 29. We arrived home last night from visiting extended family. I was just sorting through some of the gifts left strewn around our house, and thinking about the items that were given and received this year. It was a pretty sweet Christmas, with simple and thoughtful gifts. The best kind.
A few quirky ones too. I totally love this giraffe TP holder:
There was another gift. A little background: Since we moved here and realized that our trash regularly gets rummaged by vagabonds, I started putting our redeemable cans/bottles in a separate bag on top of our trash each week on trash night. Without fail, this bag vanishes. It's a win-win, really. It saves me a trip taking the nickel cans back to the store, and the money certainly means more to the person willing to dig through garbage for it. There's no need to dig. I've seen my trash, and it's disgusting.
Our trash night last week was on Christmas. I put our trash outside of our garage door, cans and bottles separated on top. and then remembered I had extra Christmas cookies. I'm going to put cookies out for our foraging friend.
Dennis wasn't so sure. "Is this what we really want to start, leaving food for the homeless? ... Wait. That sounded bad." Har.
Jesus's words about "whatever you did for the least of these, you did for me," crossed my mind, and I thought, would I hesitate to leave cookies for Jesus? I put a plate of treats in a large ziplock, and set it out on top of the trash can lid. I'm classy like that. Only the best for Jesus. On his birthday. The three wise men got nothin' on me.
That was around 10pm, Christmas night. At 8am or so the next morning, we were packing up to head out of town, and I popped open the garage door to see if the cookies were still there. (Or if there was one bite taken and the rest thrown in the trash. Whatever.) The lid was open and the trash was empty. The trash truck had already been by. Shoot. I'll never know.
As I turned and pulled the can back into the garage, I saw a blue envelope propped against the side of our garage door frame. I picked it up and opened it to find a Hallmark thank-you card inside. Not the kind that might come a dozen to a box, but an individually purchased card. Unsigned. Nothing written in it at all. Just Hallmark's printed sentiment.
I have some questions about this. Did this person just happen to have a thank-you card on them? Or did they go somewhere to get it -- in the overnight hours of Christmas night -- and come back? Who knows.
I'll just consider it a sweet Christmas card from the Bethlehem Babe.
1 comment:
it's a God thing ... don't ask a bunch of questions ... just go with it.
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