The Miracle Worker

« 1 2 3 View All»

Awoken form the dream with a new sense of destiny, I got out of bed determined to see what other signs God was giving me to direct my path. So, eyeing a gold nugget I had wanted for some time in a pawn shop window, I finally felt the courage to march right in and hide it in an old woman’s purse.

You would think it would be easy to take a purse from an old lady and replace it with a brown sack of my own dirty laundry. The purse itself was semi-outdated, so I was doing her a huge favor anyway.  (Or, “doing her a blessing,” as I began to call it.) Also, I had a vintage “Pat Robertson for President 88’” t-shirt in that bag and those are a rare treat to behold. I left a note to “wash by hand” before returning, also including that she “better do what it says if she knew what was good for her.” And get this, I genuinely hoped she did! (Know what was good for her.)

Following the woman down the street, I noticed she paused to rest at a bus stop and put down her purse. Sneaking up behind her, “commando blessing style,” (as I began to call it), I quietly placed the bag of laundry next to the purse, but soon became distracted as a small child next to me was licking a giant “It’s My Birthday!” lollipop. Instantly feeling compassion for having no parental guidance to steer him clear of poor food choices, I stole the lollipop, which wasn’t even that hard because he was pretty weak, apparently still being only ”4 Years Old!!”.

I was about to return to “operation gold nugget retrieval/blessing,” (as I called it), when I looked up and saw my very own elderly grandmother was struggling to cross a busy intersection. Leaving her alone, I once again felt the positive rush of not being an enabler to weakness. However, in my elation the child must have heard me chomping down on the lollipop, because he began screaming profanities such as I had never heard before or could even understand. As my grandma looked over at the commotion I immediately dropped to the ground, shattering the candy onto the child’s stroller just in time to see my cherished gold-nugget boarding the bus.

The worst part of the operation, (referred to as “operation gnr/b” by that time), was I think my grandmother may have spotted me. I can always tell when she spots me because she does this little thing where she shakes her head and begins to weep. In retrospect however, it is possible she was merely panicking due to the threat of on-coming traffic. I held onto that thought, hoping I wouldn’t get a call from her later in the week with the topic being, “why I didn’t say hi.”

Discouraged, gold nugget-less, wearing the dirty “Robertson 88’” shirt because I didn’t want to carry the bag anymore; I continued walking the lonely city streets. When suddenly a ray of light burst through the clouds as God let me spot a policeman friend of mine before he saw me! (As I had once impersonated him in public / permanently ruined his credit score, etc.)

Everything happens for a reason, that’s what I always say, and actually did say, as I ducked into a back alley where someone had mugged and beaten a man without thinking to look in his pockets for loose change. Walking away from the man, I was glad to be dropping his change into my pockets because it made me think of a great idea for Christmas. Why not stand with a bell-and-change-bucket outside department stores like those other fake Santas do? Quickly returned to the mugged man, I found a pen and notepad in his jacket pocket just as he was awakening.

“Wow, I really owe you one,” he said, groggily.

“You said it brother.” I returned, desperately hoping this conversation would not make me forget the Christmas bell/bucket idea. “Here, let me just write down my address on this notepad where you can send me a gift whenever you get your credit cards and money back.”

And you know what? It felt so good to have done my part to restore faith in the kindness of others for one man that I entirely forgot about the Christmas bell/bucket idea even until this very moment! (Note to self: Don’t let that happen again. Christmas bell/bucket = gold.)

“Whatever you think would be suitable,” I continued, doodling pictures on the paper as suggestions, “Flat screen tv? Small bucket of diamonds? Powered hot-tub/toilet?”

Looking at the drawings, the man groaned, “But I probably just lost my job today for being late to work. I won’t have any money to give to your..(squinting at hot-tub/toilet drawing)… small-pool-with-dead-baby-frogs gift idea?”

At this I compassionately looked at him before leaning forward and repeatedly underlined the words: “credit cards.”

“Sometimes restoring faith takes sacrifices,” I said, patting him on the shoulder, also mentioning I could probably help him out with the name and bank card numbers of certain police officer I knew which he could use for said bucket o’ diamonds purchasing.

« 1 2 3 View All»