There I was, minding my own business, enjoying doing not much of anything when the phone rang. My son was calling. Thankfully he has gotten to the point where he calls more often, so it doesn’t scare me like it once did. This time, he needed lunch. Usually where he works will feed them on Saturday, and they planned on feeding them today. The food of choice, Chic-fil-a. My son said that whoever was to place the order, did not place it early. He was of the opinion that if they got lunch, it would be late and he was on the hungry side.
So I go into mom mode. I was dressed, but had not put my contacts in yet. Getting the contacts in, getting the dogs inside, and heading out didn’t really take too terribly long. Stopping at the fast food establishment, didn’t take too long. Guessing, it may have been thirty to forty-five minutes from his call to my pulling in behind where my son worked. As he walked up to the car he thanked me and then admitted that Chic-fil-a had come through and they had got lunch. But he kept the meal I brought him as well.
Since I was out, I dropped by the big box store to pick up a couple things. One of which was a Calla Lily that called my name from across the store. They also had some of the face coverings that my son prefers so I grabbed one of those for him. I know he only wears it because he has no choice at work, but if he must, he might as well have one he likes.
When I moved to leave the parking area, things got crazy at the intersection. I barely managed to get out of the intersection and stopped. Traffic in that direction, was barely moving when it moved at all. Time seemed to come to a near stop. We would creep forward, stop, creep forward, stop. Finally I saw why. There had been a minor accident in the lane I was in. I managed to get around it as everyone ahead of me had done. Finally, I was actually on my way home.
I will admit to having a vain moment. A niece recently told me that she could see white in my hair. That had to go and it did. Mainly because of the memory of the time that lady at the big box store asked my mother if I were her sister. I will admit she may have been trying to make mom feel good, which she did, but…ouch.
Sitting here now, I will admit that I know it isn’t our external looks that matter, it is what is within. It is our actions, and how we conduct ourselves around others. How we show compassion, not just to certain people, but to all people. It is our choice of words, how we talk to those around us. How we speak to those who serve us at restaurants, help us in stores, make repairs for us. It is what resides within us, and how we show that, which is important. It is how we strive to encourage and uplift others when they are struggling.
I’ve been trying to get three feral cats to trust me. They know I feed them, make sure they have water, and have done nothing to bring harm to them. Still, trust comes slowly. I think that the same can be said for some people. Those who have been hurt in some way, for them, trust come slowly. It is how we act around and how we treat them, that is important.
It is not what is on the outside that matters at all, it is what is inside, and how we allow it to show, that is what is important.
Words from The Dirt Road 