Bulletin News

Day 346

We live in a community of 10,000 people.  Depending on where you live, this may sound like a metropolis.  Raised outside of Chicago, to me, it feels teeny tiny. 

Living in a small town takes some getting used to.  There are things you learn over time.  

1.   It’s impossible to go to Kroger without running into someone you know.  Don’t wear your pajamas.  Even at 6 am.

2.   Don’t cut anyone off on Montgomery Road.  You probably know them.

3.   If you go often enough, the lady at Algamesis Brothers Ice Cream will learn your name.

Another fun thing about living in a small community is opening The Montgomery Bulletin, a newsletter published monthly by city hall, and finding your neighbor’s daughter smiling proudly from the front cover.

I slip the issue into a manila envelope and the boys and I drop it in my friend’s mailbox on our way to karate lessons.  I’m certain extra copies will find their way into the hands of grandparents or far-flung relatives.   

I pull the car to the curb.  F. rolls down the window and leans towards the mailbox. 

“Don’t fall out the window,” I say.  This advice may seem obvious.  I’ve got boys.  Never assume. 

He struggles with the mailbox but manages to pull it open and shove the newsletter in.

“Gentle,” I say.  Again, obvious but have to add.   

Follow The Leader

Day 345

I hit confirm and five registrations sail through the Internet (to whatever wondrous place these things fly) for the March Mini Heart 5K.

I’ve known about the race for years.  Once, I even attempted to run it. 

This year we’ll all be walking to support F.’s friend Heath.  Born with a congenital heart defect, he’s had a long list of surgeries and continues to receive therapy today.  We thought about making a donation instead but want to teach the kids that one of the best ways to support a friend is to show up. 

We’ll stride side-by-side for 3.1 miles.  (Last summer a doctor recommended Heath’s dad have heart surgery.  He did.  We’ll be walking for him, too.)  More than that, we’ll teach the boys a little something about being a good friend. 

I imagine the kids will outpace the adults as we wind our way through downtown Cincinnati.  With Heath and F. in the lead.  Or that’s my hope.   

Speedy Drive By

Day 344

It’s so cold even a polar bear needs a coat. 

That’s what I’m thinking as I exit Kroger with my one bag and every intention of sprinting to the car, jumping in and cranking the heat. 

Then I see the woman and my plans change. 

The old woman’s thinning white hair blows high in the wind as she hunches deeper into her coat.  She lifts one bag from her cart and places it in her truck before turning to pick up another.  She moves at a painstakingly slow pace.  I worry by the time she gets all the bags in the back she won’t need to worry about the weather.  It’ll be spring. 

I’ve learned this year that many people are reluctant to accept help from a stranger. Sometimes you need to not ask.  Give them the easy way out.  Put it back on you.  Just do.

“It’s freezing out here,” I smile.  “Let me help you get these bags in the truck so you can get in the car faster!” I pick up a bag and place it gently in her truck.  The lady stops and turns her head towards me.   

“I’m putting your eggs and bread here in the back so they don’t bump anything,” I say.  I want her to know I’m being careful.  She stands statue still with her bag and stares.   

In less than a minute, her groceries are loaded. 

“I’m going to take this cart,” I tell her, pushing her cart to the corral.  “Now get in that warm car!” I call over my shoulder. 

The woman looks a little stunned.  I’m sure she thinks what in heavens name just happened? 

She smiles and gives me a small wave by which time I’m in my own car with the heat turned high. 

Everything happened faster than you can say random act of kindness.