A small town with a big heart

By Michele Boy

Ten a.m. on Thanksgiving Day.  My kitchen was busy with chopping, mixing, and baking. There was much to prepare. Amidst the frenzy that accompanies a holiday, I had forgotten cranberry sauce and marshmallows for the big feast that afternoon.  Friends and family were coming at 11 a.m. 

I stepped outside my front door.  The morning was peaceful.   Leaves rustled on the trees as the wind blew.  The air had a slight chill in it, reminding me of the beauty of autumn.  But there was no time to enjoy the splendor of the day.  There was work to be done.

I hurried into my vehicle and drove to the grocery store. It was closed

I murmured to myself, “I should have remembered my list yesterday. What was I thinking?  Everything will be ruined.”

In Syracuse there are three convenience stores.  Two of them were closed. 
“Not very convenient,” I muttered selfishly. 

I drove to the third convenience store. They were open.  Once inside, I asked the person behind the counter if they had any cranberry sauce. (I know I was reaching but I was desperate.)

“No,” she said. 

I sighed.
“But I have some at my house.”

My eyes widened.  “What?”  Surely I did not hear her correctly.

“If you would like it, just drive to my house.  I will call my daughter to get it for you.  And she can meet you at the door.”

I replied meekly, “Thank you.”

I drove to her home in a state of shock. I picked up the cranberry sauce from her daughter.

“Thank you so much.”  I was humbled.

When I left her house that morning, I was suddenly filled with peace, gentleness, and joy.  What a gracious gesture. I remembered how thankful I am to have my home in Syracuse, Kansas.