Give Thanks Regardless
Living about fifty acres up a dirt road gave me ample time
to see our rural Avon lady’s Cadillac swirling dust, making her way towards
hopeful sales. She always stopped at my house first, even though she knew I had
no money to spend.
Tall, bleached blond, and wafting Avon’s
perfume-of-the-month, she bustled in with her large make-up case and the most
encouraging smile. I smiled back, but if anyone had asked me, this was the most
pitiful time in my life. Here it was a week before Thanksgiving and I barely
had enough money to get through the month, much less be thankful.
Of course the Avon lady knew this. She knew everyone’s
business along these country roads. Opening her case she pulled out the latest
catalog filled with trinkets I could ill afford and special gifts I’d never
purchase for me or anyone else. Glancing at the newest eye shadow colors
modeled by lovely ladies with perfectly arched eyebrows, I could only wish.
Thanksgiving was supposed to be a time for thanks. What did
I have to be thankful for? No money for make-up or trinkets. As if reading my
thoughts, the Avon lady asked about our baby girl sleeping in the tiny room
down the hall. Born two months too soon, our tiny premie was now thriving.
Give Thanks.
Give Thanks.
Just then, the washing machine went into its spin cycle—an
unimaginably loud clamor reverberating throughout our trailer home. A
second-hand, ramshackle machine, but it got the job done.
Give Thanks.
Give Thanks.
With no clothes dryer, I put the wet heap into a plastic
bin. The Avon lady followed me outside into the chilly, late autumn air. She
helped pin clothes to the line. Growing up, I’d always had a dryer. Living in
the wide-open country, I noticed that no one else had to hang up clothes in the brittle cold. But then, if I had a dryer I never would have known the fresh
smell of line-dried laundry.
Give thanks.
Give thanks.
She waved as she got into her fancy car—parked next to our
relic—but ours had been given to us and it was comfy and reliable.
Give thanks.
Give thanks.
Watching the breeze flutter the neat line-up of my family’s
clothes, I turned to go inside. Giving thanks isn’t always easy, but it’s
always worth it. Thirty Thanksgivings later, I’m still finding new reasons to
Give Thanks.
Give Thanks.