Thursday
Thursday I did one of my favorite things. I went to the Habitat for Humanity thrift store. I know the volunteer who was on duty. She knows a little of the history of my caregiving my Mom. So being the nice person she is, she asked how things were going and how was my mom. I hadn't seen her for several months so there was a little catching up to do. She told me that her own mother lived to be ninety nine and that she had been her caregiver the last five years of her life. The store was nearly empty and nearly sold out of stuff. A customer in the store overheard our conversation, came close and told us that his parents had been married for seventy five years and were still living independently. We all made nice and tied up the loose ends of the conversation.
They had some darling heart shaped porcelain lockets with names on them. I chose several. When I was ready to check out I found myself standing elbow to elbow with another older gentleman. The volunteer struck up a conversation with him about common church interests...just small talk. The gentleman pulled a cluster of cards wrapped with a rubber band from his pocket and gave her one. I reached out my hand hoping he would give me one too. I don't know exactly why. I'm introverted and not given to being that overtly outgoing. Anyway, he said, Oh, would you like one? I said yes. I was pleased and didn't know exactly why I felt so blessed to receive it. But I soon found out.. It all now seems totally serendipitous. I noticed from his card that he is an artist and that a tiny picture of one of his pieces was on his card.
The volunteer got busy checking out another customer, which gave us a chance to strike up a conversation. It's hard for me to recall exactly how our conversation developed, but at some point he asked me if I had heard of Smile Train. I said no. He pulled a crumpled tri-fold brochure from his pocket with children's faces on it. He began to explain that it was a charity that was started to fund needed surgeries on children born with cleft palates. He then told me that by donating the revenues from selling his art, he had funded surgeries for almost three hundred children. I could feel the passion he had for his art but especially the passion he felt for using it for the purpose of making a difference in the lives of these children. He broke down in tears and said he felt that painting and using it to change the lives of children was his life's purpose.
I told him that I did a little painting but I was nowhere near his calibre. He then invited me to join him and a few buddies who meet at one of the local churches each Wednesday morning to paint and learn from each other. He very cordially said, come on and join us, we can help each other. Don't you just love occasions like this that were not planned, where you bless and get blessed? Where you get a fresh shot of encouragement and belonging? My life was enriched in the few moments we talked. I left before he did. I could tell which car was his for it had a bumper sticker that said, Kiss an Artist Today. It was a PT Cruiser.
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