Are you Humbly Grateful or Grumbly Hateful?

Are you Humbly Grateful or Grumbly Hateful?

What’s your attitude?

Do you grumble and groan,

Or let it be known

You’re grateful for all God’s done for you?

 

The words to this song seems to apply to my attitude and thoughts as of late. Perhaps it is the dismal rain or perhaps it is just a phase of life.

 

It seems that vey often when an event occurs in my everyday life it seems to trigger a memory from an earlier period of time. A few days ago I was in Trader Joe's looking around an purusing the aisles for new items as I picked up ingredients for some homemade chicken soup, all of this rain has increased my need for comfort food. I and my cart had just turned onto the baking aisle when this lady reached across in front of me and squealed with delight as her hand clasped a jar of real maple syrup. "I thought well she must really treasure this particular product," and I said as much to her as I smilingly laughed at her joy!. This lady was a few years younger then me, had intermittent gray and brown curly hair and was short. As she gleefully hugged this treasured find to her chest, she said "oh I'm just so grateful that the cost of this treat is within my budget, I didn't think I would be able to afford it, oh this makes me so happy!"

 

Off she went as I stood there and took a moment to think about her joyful attitude, her reaction and my reaction. It triggered a memory that happened nearly 42 years ago in a small grocery store in Athens, Alabama. It was July, and hotter then all get out, I was 8 1/2 months pregnant with our daughter Amy, and Curt and Chris were waiting in the car as I ran in to pick up some hamburger meat to make hamburgers for our fourth of July cookout. Curt made a comfortable living, and we were always well provided for, but at that time and place we were struggling to make our dollars stretch, so funds were limited until payday. Anyway as I was making my way up to the cash register, I saw a display of fresh off the truck watermelons, they had cut one and it's fleshy insides were red and ripe and it just made my mouth water in anticipation of how sweet and tasty it would feel on my tongue, but they were $5.00, which I did not have to spend on a treat, it just was not in the budget. So I got in line to pay and in front of me were 5 woman of color who were laughing and joking and carrying on and they had a cart full of meat, and fixings and 5 watermelons. The cashier rung up their goods, gave them the total and all of them pulled out their food stamps, paid and left. I was just astounded, and the cashier saw my face and said honey " They have lots of children, no men folk, and they live off of our generosity because we work for a living and pay our bills but they do not, and will never work because they have all they want for free." I walked out of that store got in the car and bawled like a big old baby. Curt was trying to figure out what in the heck had happened and Chris's little face was sad because his Mama was so upset. Finally I got the story out about wanting the watermelon and not being able to afford it, and about those ladies seemingly having all they wanted and more. Curt looked at me with his tender brown eyes and said "Babe it will be okay and I promise you one day you will be able to buy a watermelon anytime you want, but for now you have me and Chris and that precious baby your carrying and that is so much more then those women have, so let's just be grateful that we have enough!



 

 Our time in Alabama was a short 8 1/2 months, time enough to find out I was pregnant after trying for 5 years, suffering through 4 months of morning sickness, with a sweet boy child patting your hand and sitting on the floor next to you saying "it will be okay Mama," time enough to go fishing in the afternoons, when Curt would come home from his job at Browns Ferry we would load into his Junker Dodge farm truck and head over to a local lake sit on the bank and fish with the locals who would laugh as they would throw out their cane pole lines and would soon pull them up with a fish dangling off the end, time enough to fear tornado's and to head to a local shelter at least once a week, time enough for Curt to buy wood design and create plans to make a lovely keepsake cradle for our unborn babe and future generations on the little front porch of our rental house, time enough to eat some local barbeque, where you drive up to the house blow your horn, and they bring out the most delicious tasty barbeque, time enough to drive over to Florence and eat at a local fresh catfish hole in the wall kind of a place where they served catfish, home made fries, cole slaw, hush puppies, a slice of sweet onion and some bread and butter pickles with a glass of tea to wash it all down with. Time enough to move before I delivered our second child, since we were transferred once again by TVA this time to Nickajack Dam in Jasper, Tn. I have moved many times in my life, because of my Dad's service to his country, and then Curt's service and career with TVA, each move always brought sadness at leaving, but when we left Alabama there was only joy because we were going home, home to Tennessee!

Curt's promise has never faltered, he provided generously and unfailingly and is still doing so. I have more than enough to live comfortably for the rest of my days, when so many of my generation are struggling to make ends meet, I am blessed to have been so graciously provided for.

 

When God places remembrances in your realm of thought, I have learned that it is always for a reason. So as I have gone about my week, I have kept the unknown lady's joyful reaction in my vision, readjusted my attitude and said thank you LORD for reminding me how humbly grateful I should be.

 

P.S. The chicken soup has done exactly what it needed to do it has offered me comfort on these long rainy days without sunshine. As Curt would say "I have enough and more!"