Humbling Experience # 1743

A few months ago, I was at the copy store with all 4 kids, and very pregnant. The kids were, shall we say, being kids. Not horrible, but definitely not the Brady Bunch picture of perfection I prefer when venturing into public. There was a girl at the counter helping me, probably in her mid-twenties. She was being very nice, and even kind enough to ignore the craziness that was my children while she helped me. While I was assembling my copies, I overheard her talking to her friend/co-worker about how much she was dreading Sacrament Meeting on Sunday (it happened to be Mother's Day). I didn't catch everything but she talked about how people are generally insensitive and constantly pushing/questioning her and her husband why they don't have kids yet, and went on to say how difficult not being able to have children was.

I was heartbroken, and I felt utterly guilty. Here I was, four kids in tow with another on the way, looking and feeling quite frazzled. The sight of my children was probably painful for her...I felt awful. I wanted to go up and give her a hug, but that would have tipped her off that not only was I evesdropping, but if I misunderstood, how awkward! So I quickly talked myself out of it and went about my life.

Months past, and I couldn't stop thinking about her. Finally, a couple of weeks ago, I couldn't stand it anymore, so I wrote her an anonymous letter (I am one of the biggest chickens you will ever meet). I just told her how much I appreciated her kindness, and how I was sorry she was having this trial. It was a little more eloquent than that, but you get the idea. I took it in, and left it with one of the other workers with strict instructions not to rat me out, and then I left.

Which brings me to yesterday. Yesterday was just yucky for some reason. Our van was having issues...it took me over a half hour to get from our friend's house in South Bountiful to downtown Bountiful...that should maybe be a 5 minute trip because the van kept dying. In the middle of a two way road with people honking, in an intersection...people honking. Dying, dying, dying. Five minutes into that lovely trip, Asher started one of his infamous tantrums, a really loud one. So by the time I reached the copy store, I was on the brink of emotional collapse. I walked in (with inconsolable Asher) with all the kids and waited my turn. This girl was the one to help me. By the time I had finished, I was just a little weepy and feeling sorry for myself. It was very PMS-like except that I don't have a period while I'm nursing, so who knows. She smiled, and made a big fuss about how cute my Christmas letter was (appealing to my vanity always seems to lighten my mood). Then she asked how many kids I had, and pulled out 5 pieces of candy and wished me a Merry Christmas. I was totally bawling by this point, and told her thank you. The dark clouds that were surrounding my aura parted, and I was lifted by this small act of kindness. Maybe she knew I wrote the letter...I hope not. But in any case, here was a person whom I felt so compelled to "help," and yet look at how much more she helped me.

The day started out where I could relate with Alfalfa when he said "Then the clouds opened up and God said, 'I hate you Alfalfa!'"

But when I left that copy store, I had experienced this quote from President Kimball, “God does notice us, and He watches over us. But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs.”