Pause and Thank

Today's post was going to be about my nearly hysterical tax adventures (or mis-adventures), but then something profound happened, so you'll have to wait (I know you are counting the minutes) for that.

Over the last six months, I have been heard, more than once, saying, "I am so grateful for this economic crisis," which on it's face sounds like I've lost one too many brain cells. While I undoubtedly have lost more than one too many brain cells, I truly AM grateful for the economic crisis - for reminding me of just how blessed I am. I mourn for those who are victims of the topsy turvy "never-quite-sure-what-to-expect-next" chaos, for those who are biting their nails at how on earth they are going to get through the next day, month, week, for those who find themselves suddenly unemployed. I've been there. I've also been on the "spend too much and think too little" end, and I'm happy to have found a relative balance.

But today, I was profoundly reminded of how blessed every single one of us are. I was standing on the sidewalk, in 40-degree, windy, threatening-to-snow weather downtown. A colleague and I were chatting following a networking lunch of cheese and chocolate fondue. A woman, clean, but obviously distressed, carrying a baby in a Snugli draped with a small blanket - diaper bag over her shoulder - approached us.

She timidly said, "I'm so sorry to bother you. I lost my job and was evicted from my apartment a few days ago. I'm on a waiting list for a shelter and an apartment with vouchers, staying at the Motel 8. I was supposed to move in today, but the people in the apartment I'm getting didn't move out, and I am scrambling to find $35 to pay for another night at the hotel. Do you have anything you can spare? I called my ex-husband, and he won't help."

I will admit, I'm a bit jaded and terribly practical - too much so for my own (and others) good. But that baby. I didn't care what happened, it just broke my heart. I stood looking at her, tears nearly pricking my eyes, and I handed her the last $4 in cash I had from my wallet. Then I said, "I have an extra clean blanket in my car, would that help?" (Winter isn't over yet - I always have a blanket in the car during the winter). Her face lit up and she said, "Oh yes - I'm so worried about my baby in this cold."

I asked if I could see her baby. There he was, 4 months old, snuggled up in the Snugli under the small blanket with a pacifier, unaware that anything was wrong. He was beautiful. She wrapped the larger blanket around him. I wanted to hug her, sob and drag her out to buy a can of formula, but it wasn't really practical, given the circumstances.

When she departed, I told my colleague, "I don't normally do things like that, but oh, that baby!"

Right then, I remembered again just how fortunate I am. I have a more than adequate home. I know how I'm going to pay the rent this month. There is food - nutritious, fresh and abundant, in my pantry. I have a job. Himself has a job. I have a family. I have reliable transportation. There are people who love me.

I uttered a silent prayer on my way back to the office. "Heavenly Father, thank you for reminding me of how truly blessed I am, for giving me someone to help today, even just a little, and help me never to know what it feels like to not be able to provide the basic necessities for my children."

I'm hugging Woodstock extra close tonight and delighting in the aerobatics of her little sister, who seems to be quite content to kick my bladder repeatedly. May they never have to wonder where they will sleep at night. May I always be able to provide shelter, a bed, warmth, food and love.

May we not take for granted those things which place us among the most wealthy in the world.