Yes, Mother, I’m telling THAT story. The one you always tell me to STOP telling.
Eight years ago, MP was just a baby, JD was working in non-profit, and I wasn’t working at all. As you can imagine, we weren’t exactly candidates for Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous! Does anyone remember that show? Anyway, as we were preparing for our first Christmas as parents, money was tight and we were looking for ways to keep costs down. So we decided NOT to buy a Christmas tree.
I might have been sad. I MIGHT have yelled at my husband. I may or may NOT have left the house to go shopping at some “crappy store to buy people junk that they wouldn’t like anyway.” Basically, a real testament to the joy that is Christmas.
Anyway, while I was out running errands, a police car pulls in the driveway. They confirm with JD that they are at the right house, then call into their radio for the TRUCK. Yes, a TRUCK pulls into our driveway and begins to unload a Christmas tree! Somehow, a local church was giving away trees and they got our name. So out pours the tree, decorations, lights – the whole shebang!
Yeah, I MIGHT have cried. There we were, with no tree, but the Lord provided. My mother fussed when I told her. “I would have bought you a tree! Stop telling that story.”
But I refused. For eight years I’ve been telling of our Christmas tree miracle. Then a few weeks ago I ran into a friend of mine. Carol goes to the church that provided the tree and I’ve always suspected that she had something to do with it. When I told her the story, she shrugged and said, “I think Carolyn’s Sunday School class was doing something.”
Carolyn? Oh, you mean CAROLYN, who just happened to be living in our pool apartment? Carolyn who went to that church and was spending her first Christmas in Georgia? OH.
You don’t think…? Nah. I’m sure it was meant for us. Carolyn had just had twins. If it were meant for her, I’m sure they would have sent two.