by MKOrchard

Created on: October 07, 2010

It was three weeks before Christmas. My four and five-year-olds and I were unconscious due to the flu. When awareness dawned a day or so later, I realized that we were alone with no car, no money, no job, no Christmas gifts, and little food.

At that time self-sufficiency was a dream too big to conceive. I just wanted us to survive any legal way we could.

People I barely knew helped in such gracious ways that decades later it still brings tears to my eyes. Local businesses and charities always appeal to the public to help our neighbors in need during the holidays. They do fine work, often through volunteers. On occasion they have helped us, but some of my best memories are of individual neighbors who offered me a lift during one of my low times – especially those who reinforced my sense of dignity. They were the ones who lent me the courage to face the future.

That weekend after my husband left, I was feeling kind of desperate. I decided to visit a church within walking distance. In the refrigerator we had a half-loaf of bread and a quart of milk. I served the kids toast and milk for breakfast. One of the boys spilled his milk. That almost sent me over the edge.

When we got to the church, someone invited me to let the kids go to a Sunday school class. I went into the worship service. Eventually the collection plate came by, and I had only a quarter. I put it into the plate and sent a mental memo to God that it wasn’t enough to buy bread or milk and that I hoped he could do some good with it.

After church I asked my sons how they liked Sunday school. “We had a snack!” my five-year-old said.

“What else happened?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but let’s come here again.” 

When I got home there were two bags of groceries on the front porch. I don’t know who put them there. It couldn’t have been someone from the church, because we had come directly home. It was immediately obvious to me that God had given a nudge to some mystery person, though.

The secretary of that church called later that week. She said that she had been cleaning out the church attic and had found some toys that were left over from a church carnival of a year or so ago. Did I know anyone who could use them? Did I know?! How sweet was that?    

She brought them over, and someone came on Christmas Eve, after the children were asleep, to help me play Santa. We stayed with that church for about six years.

Some

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