A few weeks ago I was dropping my girls off at a weekly event. This gives them a couple of hours working in a ministry they love, and gives me some time alone with my 3 year old boyfriend, Jensen.
First on the agenda, is for him to take me to Starbucks. For a well deserved Mocha Frappacino. Hold the whip. Don’t start writing letters. I’m doing the driving. And the drinking.
The Mocha Frappacino, that is. He carries his own sippy cup.
Next, we often head to the Discount Bread Store. You know the one. Where bread that is sold at a regular grocery store sells for a cool $3.50, but at the Discount Bread Store SELLS THE SAME DANG THING FOR $1.00.
And it isn’t even moldy.
On this particular blustery day, Jensen and I blew into the store looking rather disheveled. After I wrestled him into the cart, and strong armed him into the safety buckle, we set about filling the cart with loaves of bread, English Muffins, and Miniature Bagels. (I close my eyes whilst passing the Entenmanns Donut selection.) Out of sight, out of mind.
I noticed that we shared the smallish store with a very well put together older lady. She was probably in her mid to late 70’s. I smiled and made small talk about the weather.
Then, with a full cart, I checked out. While Jensen attempted to flip the cart while still strapped into the seat. A feat he ventures anytime we go to the bread store, as the carts are on the small side. And don’t at all resemble the car carts he enjoys at the local Publix.
His small way of rebelling.
We made our way out to the van. I threw all of our bags into the back, wrestled Jensen into his car seat, and came around to the drivers side of our car. Just then, I heard, “Excuse me!” The well put together elderly lady, in her very nice clean Lexus, leaned across her drivers seat to her passenger side, rolling down the window. I bent down to see what she needed, “Here.” And with that, I saw her hold out a rolled up unknown sum of money. “I want you to have this.”
For a brief moment, because of the look in her eyes, and the way she held out the carefully rolled up money, I saw my Nanny. When I was young and struggling on my own in my 20’s, my Nanny would sometimes roll up a ten spot, and hand it to me as I was leaving after a visit.
“Oh no, ma’am. I couldn’t.”
“Please, I don’t have anyone to help.”
My heart broke for her.
I explained to her that we were awfully blessed, and that I wanted her to go do something nice for herself.
She insisted a little bit more, and I was just as adamant.
I told her, “You have helped me, you just made my day a lot brighter.”
And with that, she smiled, backed out of her parking spot, and waved.
And I prayed. I prayed for someone to come into that sweet lady’s life. Someone she could heap help upon. And someone who would love and appreciate her in return.
As mommies, we have a God given nurturing spirit. We have an unquenchable need to take care of those we love. Plus a stray dog or cat as well. And I think that continues long after our children are grown and gone.
It’s who we are.
And I think it’s why we always miss our own mothers and Nannies. No matter our age, or how long our moms have been gone. My 84 year old aunt still tears up when she speaks of her own mama. My Nanny. Who has been in heaven now for 20 years.
We all need someone to watch over us. And I thank God for a heavenly Father who has an unquenchable need to care for His children.