By Hazel Holland
The last few hours before my move were unforgettable. Even though I had sold more than half of my household furniture and furnishings, and most of my garden furniture and tools, it seemed that I still had too much stuff to fit on the moving truck...
While I was in the house packing last minute things, and the neighbor guys were loading the truck, Ashley, a young friend of mine who I had met a couple of weeks earlier at one of my yard sales, showed up. I had momentarily forgotten that she had volunteered to go to the store for me, and now she was apologizing for taking so long as she handed me a
beautifully wrapped gift along with a roll of packaging tape that she knew I needed.
She was a student at the nearby college, and since the new quarter was still a couple of weeks away, she had
been coming over daily to help me with chores. If I needed to run an errand, or needed a burrito because it was hours since I had eaten, or just needed help deciding what should be
done next on the list, she was there.
Day after day I had been amazed by
her genuine kindness as she helped me
with cleaning, and rearranging the tables of items for sale so that they would look more attractive to customers. She was always cheerful and optimistic. An angel that God
sent at just the right time.
Since I knew she was interested in purchasing a number of my
"antiques", but was on a
limited budget, I had given her some of my treasures in return for the help she had so willingly given me. Now she was here again volunteering to help me one last time. But I was so distracted by all the last minute details that I forgot about my friend's offer until I noticed that the guys who were supposed to be loading the truck were standing around instead of working.
It was then that I learned that Ashley was holding up the loading and packing process. She had told the neighbor guys who were packing the truck that she had experience in packing moving trucks also. So she had wormed her way into the middle of the half-packed truck, and was re-arranging the boxes and furniture to make more room for more stuff.
To make a long story short... Although my friend, Ashley, had only wanted to help, she had made the packing process more difficult. Now a huge gaping, cave-like hole that was about 4 feet square and 7 feet high was in the middle of the truck! This hole needed to be filled in with furniture and boxes or everything would come crashing down once the truck moved. The only problem was that the two guys I had hired to pack the truck could not get through the narrow opening to the cave-like hole. Only I could.
So it became my job to try and re-arrange the furniture and boxes above and around me so that the cave-like hole would be filled in. It was either that or spend another 4 hours having the guys unload and repack the truck. Since it was already late into the evening and the guys were hot and tired, I could see that they were not anxious to stretch out this packing operation until midnight. Neither was I. Besides I didn't want to have to pay them more money for the extra time it would take to unload and repack the truck. It would later become obvious that was not a wise decision for me to have made...
Three days later when I arrived at my destination and proceeded to open the back of the truck, an avalanche of last minute items that I thought had been tightly wedged in came crashing down upon me! I could see that a shelf to a bookcase had split into pieces, and that some of the boxes that had been packed further back in the truck had been flung forward at precarious angles. I wondered how the rest of my stuff had fared?
I soon discovered that some of my furniture had dents and quite a few scratches here and there, but none of my good china or glassware was broken. Even my oil and watercolor paintings that I had carefully packed survived the trip with no broken frames.
However, there was one unsightly gouge in the top of my antique dining table that made me feel bad for just a moment. But then I quickly decided that I would cover it with a cloth until I could repair it. Luckily it was still usable. At least the legs weren't broken.
But then I discovered that the back legs to my living room chair were bent at a strange angle. You couldn't sit in it without it tipping over backwards. So I placed a couple of pieces of wood under the back of the chair to support it and take the weight off of the bent legs. Obviously those legs were going to have to be replaced if the chair was ever going to be functional again.
Well, the other day as I passed by the Ace Hardware store in town, I decided to stop by and check to see if they had replacement legs for my chair. Since none of the other hardware stores in town carried chair legs, I was delighted they did, and I hurried home to measure the size I would need.
Then the strangest thing happened. When I turned the chair over to measure the length of the back legs I discovered that the legs were no longer bent! They were as straight and sturdy as the front ones, and I couldn't wiggle them like I had been able to before. So I took the wood props away that had been holding up the back of the chair and sat down in it. For the first time in three months it didn't tip or lean over. The legs were as good as new! This was a miracle!
But how could this possibly happen? I have no idea! How can two crooked chair legs that are bent at a 45-degree angle revert back to their original straight position after three months of rest? Seems impossible to me. Maybe someone who knows more about the properties of wood than I do would have some answers...
All I know is that throughout this whole moving ordeal, I kept reminding myself that people are more important than things. So when I discovered the other day that the legs to my chair had been
"healed" I knew that God was dealing with more than the "lame" legs of
my chair. He was showing me heart
issues that He wanted to heal.
Things can always be replaced with other things, but people can't! Stuff can be replaced, but people are what really matter in our lives. Showing love and kindness and forgiveness to others when they make mistakes or poor decisions is important, because we all make mistakes and poor decisions at times. I know I do.
So I want to thank my friend, Ashley, for the gift she gave me... not just the beautiful stationary and candy bar, but the gift of her time and her heart. I want her to know that she really matters in my life, and that I will never forget what she taught me during the time we spent together those last few days. Her unconditional love often gave me the strength to stand when my legs were ready to drop from exhaustion.
But more than anything else I want the shame that I saw on Ashley's face that day when she climbed out of the moving truck and headed for her car...to be healed. I want her to know that her acts of love and kindness towards me far outweigh any mistakes she made that day. I want her to know that she is covered by love, and that I value her as a person and am proud to know her and call her my friend. ♥