In The Spirit of Christmas

As I exited my vehicle, I turned to the door behind me, laid my hand on the handle, and opened it wide. The sight before me looked much larger and less manageable than when I first placed them in my backseat.

It was finally the day to mail all the packages, and there I stood, looking at four good sized boxes and two larger than average mailing envelopes that were also a tad heavy; trying to figure out how in the world I was going to get them from the backseat of my truck, into my arms, across the parking lot, and into the doors of the post office, without scattering it all across the pavement under my feet.

The four boxes alone, stacked all together, were over my head and blocking my eye-sight of anything in front of me. Then the two larger envelopes tucked under my arms – well nothing about that felt controllable at all. In my mind’s eye, I could picture all the boxes, the two envelopes, and very possibly me, sprawled out on the pavement the first time my toe hit a stray pebble on the concrete.

As I stood there contemplating my dilemma, another car pulled up beside me and began maneuvering to park.

Now I am not one to ask people/strangers for help. I don’t like imposing mostly, but also, I absolutely hate admitting I can’t do something. Nonetheless, I knew on that day, proceeding with common sense instead of false pride was the ticket to achievement.

As the lady exited her car, I began to size-her-up to make sure she would indeed be able to help me, and that me asking her for help wouldn’t cause her any undo distress. She appeared to be a few years older than me, but certainly capable of carrying a couple of boxes should I ask her.

I swallowed my pride and called out “Ma’am?” Once she turned around I began to lay-out my predicament for her, and asked her would she terribly mind helping me get my packages just as far as inside the door, and then I could proceed from there myself.

Much to my relief, she was so kind, and more than willing to help me out. She took two of the boxes from me, and I carried the other two and the large envelope packages. I backed into the door – letting her follow in behind me as I held the door, and then once inside, near the actual counter for weighing and checking out, I sat them all down and thanked her profusely for her help.

I knew I would be a bit of time checking my own things out, so I told her step-ahead of me in line. She got her two stamps, which bless her, was all she had planned on doing at the post office that day anyway, and turned to leave.

I thanked her again and was once more, silently grateful for this small, considerate and kind town that I call home; the same place that Christmas spirit is alive for more than just a day.

Blessings/safety for all holiday travelers and Merry Christmas to you and yours.