The One Day Miracle

This is a story about one of the most beautiful miracles I have ever witnessed. It is a story of community, of love, of mercy, and of the compassion of strangers for someone in need. I was privileged enough to see it all first hand, for it all began with one simple phone call... I have a friend (we'll call her "J") who's profession involves working with individuals and families in their homes and trying to connect them to services they need. This particular evening, I received a phone call that would impact both of us more than we could have ever expected. She called me with a problem; she had come across a mother and child in a desperate situation...no furniture to speak of, deplorable living situation, and no food in the cupboards. This friend has known me for quite sometime, is vaguely familiar with my church, and has had several positive experiences with our missionaries. She knew our missionaries like to give volunteer service, and was wondering if they would be able/willing to help do some cleaning, etc. at this home. I knew the missionaries would be happy to help, but I asked how the other needs were going to be met. She wasn't sure; the services she was trying to set up had a loophole that was going to take at least a couple of weeks to sort through. She was personally trying to help out with a few food items here and there on her own limited budget. I told her about the Relief Society of my church, and how the organization's entire existence is built around trying to relieve suffering. She was amazed and asked if I thought they might be able to help her maybe get a week's worth of food for this family.I know and love these women so well, that I guaranteed her it would happen. I also told her I would ask about donations of furniture, and that I would post the info. to my neighborhood internet page (I am blessed to live in a neighborhood of exceptional and very giving people who I had seen come together several times in support of worthy causes). I put the word out to my church family and neighborhood that very evening; I gave brief details of the situation, and explained donations could be dropped off to my house and then would be sent on to the family. We needed the donations ASAP, as the circumstances were dire, and though hoping for at least some donations by the following evening, we realized this was giving everyone very little time to respond. I expected a few people to drop by with perhaps a bag of some leftover cans from their cupboards to help out, and would have been grateful for any small offering given. What actually happened still brings tears to my eyes as I recollect the details. My doorbell began ringing the next morning and continued throughout the day. Bags and bags and bags of food were dropped off by church members and neighbors alike. A friend of mine dropped by with fresh fruits and vegetables stating how hard it must be to not have any fresh food. Gallons of milk were donated; cheese, a whole turkey, chicken, ground beef, some extra hygiene items and things I would have never thought of like paper towels and dish soap were brought by. My next door neighbors brought by a bed. Some neighbors down the street donated a beautiful couch set, and several other items were donated, until they had enough to furnish a whole apartment. One donation, in particular, which touched me the most was by a woman I know, who called and asked if I could stop by. She was a widow, living with a disability, who was barely scraping by herself. When I knocked on her door, I was greeted with a large bag of food items she wished to donate, which I know was given at great sacrifice...It reminded me of the story of the "widow's mite", and how her gift of all she had was truly the most beautiful gift of all. Another friend stopped by with $100 "for whatever they were still in need of". By that evening, my living room was full from end to end and stacked about 2 feet high all the way across with dry food items. My fridge and outdoor freezer were packed, and my garage was full of furniture. As I began sorting the food and items, the story became even more incredible: While one person had brought a turkey, another had brought stuffing, and still another some cranberry sauce. Ground beef was donated, as were taco shells, lettuce, tomatoes, and shredded cheese (all from different sources), and on and on...so many complete meals, completely unintentionally. People brought by drinks and treats so they had something to look forward to and smile about (someone remarked that everyone could use a little chocolate every now and again...). By the end of the sorting and tallying, it was estimated there was over a month and a half's food donated in just 24 hours. I called "J" and let her know that I had some items for her to pick up for the family. When she walked into my house and saw the living room full to the brim with food, she broke down into tears. She said she had never seen anything like that...in all of her years of helping people in need and finding them resources, what would have taken her months of going through red tape and paperwork and outreach to even attempt to get those kind of items, these incredible, generous, loving strangers were able to accomplish in just 24 hours. What I wouldn't give to be able to go back in time and take a picture of it all so you could see it. The scene that remains in my memory, however, stands as a memorial in my mind of the beauty and good of humanity. With all the horrors we hear about so often, and the negativity we are bombarded with everyday, it only takes a moment for me to remember that miracle, and so many others like it, that prove to me how many good people there really are out there.Yes, there are ugly exceptions of course, but I truly believe that at its core, humanity is not a lost cause...more people are good, caring, loving human beings than we give credit for. I say let's be different. Let's go against the grain of society and the media that will tell us to fear each other, to question motives, and assume the worst. Instead, let's dare to open our eyes and our hearts to see the everyday kindnesses that so often go unnoticed. Let us herald the acts of courage, honesty, and goodness that are happening all around us, and show the world there is still hope.

Coming Soon...

It was recently gently brought to my attention that posting once every 6 months isn't really an acceptable way to run a blog... So, I have decided to step it up and commit to posting on the 1st Sunday of every month (unless said Sunday is on a holiday, vacation, emergency, etc., in which case I'll just get to it as soon as I can ;)). Since it's already past the first of this month, and because I have a really good story that shouldn't have to wait, I'll post this month's this Sunday. Thanks for your patience and hanging in there with me...

NOT Jack-the Ripper...

The entirety of this post is not only to highlight an exceptional person who performed an act of kindness, but also to make a point that God DEFINITELY has a sense of humor... It's the beginning of September of last year (2014), it is late at night and I am needing to go out to the grocery store. I am dragging my feet because 1. I have a newly injured foot that just that day got put into a boot and hurts like crazy, and 2. I am a tad bit paranoid about parking lots at late night hours (I am from Las Vegas folks...'nuff said). So as part of my procrastination, I begin telling some of the stories of why I am paranoid to begin with (my parents were very proactive about letting me know true stories of things that have happened and how to protect myself from them so I could have some street smarts as a teen--which totally worked btw--but also made me kinda hyper-paranoid). There is in particular one story where a man targeted women in parking lots that always bothered me, so I have always been a keys-in-hand, well-lit-spot, be-aware-of-surroundings,check-the-back-seat kinda gal, but as I related the story that evening, it was giving me the heebie-jeebies, and I still had to go out. I finally get to the store, well past midnight, intending to only grab a couple of things and get out of there as quickly as possible. I glance at the handi-cap wheel-chair/cart-thing and consider it for a half-second before my pride says "heck no!" and I walk on. The items I need are at the back of the store, and about half way back I realize I am never going to make it; it seems the walking boot they put me in has aligned my foot in such a way that I am walking directly on the injury and the pain is so bad I can't take a full step on it anymore. It's now too far for me to go back for the handi-cart, and I am in so much pain I don't know what to do. I decide that since I am half way there I am just going to have to tough it out and somehow make it. My first solution is to put most of my weight on my arms and use the cart like a walker to put as little pressure on that foot as possible...this works for a while until my arms are shaking (that cart is a whole lot taller than a walker folks!). Next, I try hopping on the good foot as I push the cart (yep, that didn't last too long either--but I'm pretty sure the people there got some good entertainment). At this point my arms and good foot are tired, and I am in I'm-going-to-fight-the-tears-back kind of pain, so I hang part of my upper body over the push bar of the cart and use my good foot to just push me along (at this point y'all are wishing you were there to see this...). I somehow manage to get my stuff and check out, and as I am leaving, my sixth sense tells me that a gentleman I saw a few times in the store is behind me at a distance. Now, I wasn't in so much pain that my conversation from earlier that evening wasn't still fresh in my mind, so I am keeping him in my peripheral view as I scout out witnesses and good lighting and quickly locate the panic button on my keys as he continues to follow me towards my vehicle. I quickly unlock my car and unload groceries at record-breaking speed, only to glance up and see that the man is now only a few feet away...my heart about stops as he reaches out his hand and begins to speak...It goes something like this "Uh, can I take your cart back for you? I saw you in the store and you looked like you were really struggling and in pain...I would have approached you there and like offered to carry you or something except I was pretty sure you would like try to punch me or something, so I thought I should just make sure you made it to your car ok and safe and all..." As he put away the cart he noticed my husbands (BYU) license plate cover and asked about the school and if we were Mormon; when I confirmed, he told me he was too and that he had just started going to a new building and we discovered it was my exact congregation...yep, my would-be-imaginary-serial-murderer, turned out to not only be a thoroughly nice fellow, but a new member of my church family...go figure. I'm pretty sure God got a good chuckle out of that one...

Angels Among Us

It's been way too long since the last post, and too many good stories have gone unshared that I will need to catch up on, but this most recent story could not go unrecognized. Many different circumstances led to this month being an incredibly difficult one for me; everything seemed to compile,with a necessary foot surgery being the cherry on top (think dancer, mother of 4, get stuff done kind of gal---I NEED my feet!). I was in pain physically,emotionally, and spiritually, and worked myself into quite the mega pity party, when God decided enough was enough and it was time for a slice of humble pie. My surgery necessitated that I be on bed rest with zero use of my right foot for 5 weeks; further complications from anesthesia and medications rendered me completely helpless and unable to care for even my most basic of needs. It was in this state of forced humility that my eyes and heart were truly opened to see how much beauty and love are a part of my life... The complications from the surgery unexpectedly resulted in me being hospitalized on Halloween, with 4 children expecting to go trick or treating...one of whom ended up with a high fever and needing care. I was heart broken that I couldn't be there for them, and was ruining their holiday. That was when angels came to the rescue. Neighbors and friends who had agreed to take my children for the couple of hours during my surgery kept them the entire day and into the evening...they found them costumes and took them trick or treating like one of their own. The sick child was tenderly cared for, despite them having their own children to take care of. The next day my church family got involved... they could have just dropped some dinners off at my doorstep and called it good, but they didn't. They realized my youngest would be home with me, without me having the ability to fully care for him, so they organized having different moms to come pick him up for play dates every day so he could get out and have fun and I wouldn't have to worry about him while medicated. They found out that I fell while home alone trying to get a plate of food, so my amazing visiting teacher (what's that? http://www.mormonnewsroom.org/article/visiting-teacher) became my mother hen and came everyday at lunch time to make me lunch and bring it to me, and then proceeded to spend hours cleaning my house...scrubbing my floors on her hands and knees, wiping my cupboards, doing dishes, vacuuming, and just sitting and talking to me and making sure I was o.k....On the days she had to work, she called to check on me, and found others to come; one woman is an especially busy lady with full time work and church responsibilities, but took time off to pick up my favorite food from a restaurant, bring it over and sit and talk with me as I ate, and then do my laundry before she left. Another woman sacrificed her whole day to drive me to a doctor appointment, watch my son while I was there, get my prescriptions from the pharmacy,and then, after taking us home, came back and surprised us with lunch. Different families brought us meals each night, but instead of just dropping them off, they came in and checked on me and asked if there was anything else they could do....one even brought over much needed groceries. A neighbor drives my children to school each week, a teenage neighbor walks them home every day...all as volunteers. Every person who has helped in any way has offered to do it again any time I need. It is easy to be human and feel humiliated at having to sit still as someone else cleans your home around you or does other acts like these, but these people have treated me like it was their privilege to take care of me...I was never their service project or an item to check off their list... every action, every gesture, was an act of pure love that touched my heart more deeply than I can express. Friends and family from all over the country called, texted, and messaged me to check on me and encourage me. Darrell took on triple duty to try to keep up with the house and kids and being a go-fer for all my needs on top of work, and my mom took two weeks off of her work to come out and take care of and spoil all of us. A truly inspired bishop sent a letter with exactly the words I needed to hear at just the right time...Several weeks before, another friend had helped me remember who I really was and who I want to be,and changed me for the better. These women and men have shown me more of who I can and want to become. They are the very best of what humanity has to offer; regular people with regular, busy lives, who do extraordinary things...small things, quiet things...things no one but them and the person they helped know about. At my lowest time, when hurt was starting to choke out hope, these ordinary,extraordinary people became God's hands in my life...angels, who opened up a floodgate of love that has overwhelmed me. This I have learned: hurt can still hurt, and pain will sometimes remain, but if we allow Him to, God can open our eyes and show us the beauty that is everywhere around us. If we open our hearts to those around us, we can discover that heaven isn't as far away as we might think it is, and that joy is possible, even when our circumstances can't be changed. So thank you, my angels, for loving me, for serving me, and for inspiring me...you are changing the world for the better...one single act, one heart changed at a time. I thank my Father in Heaven for loving me enough to humble me and show me how much I truly have to be grateful for. Even though life may not be perfect for any one of us,we all have more blessings than we realize, and I have my own slice of heaven from having known and loved each of you...

The Heroic Kindness of the Man on 10th Street

Ali Benhamed, owner of the French/Bavarian restaurant La Parisienne (200 S. 10th street)in downtown Richmond, opens his doors on the 2nd and 4th Fridays of every month to the community for free salsa lessons, followed by an evening of open Latin dancing. In the handful of times I have been able to make it there, it has become one of my favorite things to do. The last Friday in April, I had made plans with a friend to go. I am a type 1 diabetic who had battled with my blood sugar levels for most of that day and was feeling a bit off, but they were in normal range by the the time I was ready to leave. I packed my glucose meter and some glucose tablets, just in case, and ran out the door. Normally my friend and I carpool, but this night she needed to leave early, so we took separate cars. The first hour was amazing; I danced my heart out and was having a wonderful time. About a half an hour after that I started not feeling right, so I drank some more water and checked my blood sugars; everything was normal, so I chalked it up to the effects from earlier in the day, and wasn't about to let it keep me off the dance floor. A few dances later I really didn't feel right so I went out on the patio to cool down, continued to worsen, then eventually ended up curled in a ball on the bathroom floor feeling so overwhelmingly nauseous I couldn't move. I then began to feel like I might pass out and started to realize the seriousness of the situation (I did not know at the time that even though my sugars were normal, my ketones were dangerously high--basically my body was poisoning itself and could quickly become a life-threatening condition called diabetic ketoacidosis). I debated between calling 911 or texting my husband, and decided on the latter since I figured maybe it was just motion sickness or something I ate, and I didn't want to make a scene. A neighbor was able to come over to the house to be with our kids, and my husband set out on the 30 minute drive to come get me. Meanwhile, I realized I needed to be out of the bathroom in case I passed out, and started to worry that something would happen to me and no one would know I was diabetic. In fact, there is a bar in the restaurant, and it would be the most logical assumption for people to think I was just drunk (not knowing I don't drink at all). I crawled out of the bathroom and onto a nearby chair (both of which are around a corner and out of sight) and was completely unable to make even the slightest movement. Most people didn't know I was there, my friend had left, and the one woman who passed me on her way to the bathroom assumed I was drunk, and very sweetly gave me all her best advice on how to feel better. I was really getting scared and didn't know what to do. Then Ali happened to see me as he came around the corner. Now, he very easily could have assumed I was drunk or tired and dismissed it, especially with all he has to do in keeping up with his restaurant, but he didn't. He came over to me and asked if I was o.k.; I managed a small shake of my head and got out "diabetic". He offered to make me some food, but I knew my levels were o.k, and knew I couldn't keep down any food. He offered to get one of the wait staff to come sit with me; I declined knowing my husband was on the way, didn't want to have to have a stranger see me be sick, and knew they had a restaurant to keep running. He walked away and came back with a female server "so (I) wouldn't feel uncomfortable", put a chair in the bathroom, and had us both lock ourselves in so I would be away from the noise and be undisturbed. he then asked her to take care of me and get me anything I needed. He said I should not be embarrassed, that he had taken care of his wife when she was sick, and that everybody needs that sometimes. After a while I knew my husband would be getting close, and that I somehow needed to get out the front door. I started to slowly make my way when Ali spotted me and quickly came over, took my arm, and helped me to just outside the front of the building. He pulled up a chair for me to sit, then grabbed another server to join us (so I wouldn't be uncomfortable with just him out there with me). He then asked for my phone so he could call my husband and let him know I was being taken care of until he could get there. I started to have chills and shake violently; he quickly rubbed my arms as fast as he could, using friction to try to warm me up and get the chills to abate, all the while calmly telling me that everything was going to be o.k., that my husband would be there any minute, and that I would be alright. When we spotted my car, he had his waiter go flag it down and helped my husband get me into the car. After we made it home, I discovered my key tones were astronomically high, made a call to my doctor, and was promptly sent to the ER where I was given the meds and fluids I needed. I was able to get back home later that morning feeling worn out, but so much better. What I didn't get over so quickly was the incredible gratitude that I felt for this gentleman who didn't know me, had a million other things to do, and had every reason to pass me by and let others handle it. Instead, he chose to not only help, but to treat me with the respect, love, and compassion of a family member. I struggled with knowing how to thank him, feeling that nothing seemed adequate. I felt his story needed to be told; not because he did it for me, so much, but for the fact that he would have done it for anyone. A person willing to sacrifice and treat others with such humanity and dignity is a hero in his/her own right and deserves to be recognized. So thank you Ali, for reminding me that there are amazing and genuinely good people all over this world, and that I just needed to open my eyes and start taking note. ****Please feel free to share and/or comment on this post; I will be hosting a thank you dinner at La Parisienne this coming Friday and will share this post and any comments directed to Ali. I would love to give this man as much recognition as possible. If you are local please feel free to join us (the dessert crepes are especially delicious!--8pm, and for daring souls, salsa lessons to follow) ***Also, need to give special thanks to the other heroes of the night: my hubby, for coming to the rescue, both sets of neighbors who came over late at night for the rescue and the hospital trip, a good friend who was willing to come with my husband to rescue the car I drove so it wouldn't get impounded for staying in the garage over night, and for the sweet bathroom lady, who, even though mistakenly thought I was drunk, still cared enough to stop and help.

Why the New Blog?

With this being the first post, I thought it expedient to begin with the why. I am often disheartened about the state of humanity after watching all the crime and horrific events that so often saturate our news. There are times it feels like there are so many terrible things happening all over the world and even in our own towns and neighborhoods that the world is a scary and dangerous place to be. But then an elderly gentleman at the grocery store will offer to take my cart to the cart return when he sees my arms are full with children, or my neighbors will have blown the leaves off my lawn while I was out, or a complete stranger will see the look of distress on my face and offer the use of his cell phone and GPS when he realizes I am lost,and countless other incidents of a similar nature,I have to believe there really are a much greater number of good people out there than the few crazies that we so often hear about. So many individuals are out there doing extraordinary things whose stories are never told. Unfortunately, news stations have so much on their plates (there really is so much news, and so little time to cover it all) and pressure to get viewers that these stories rarely make it on air. I couldn't shake the thought that if news reports of crimes could result in "copy cat" acts of misconduct, couldn't the opposite also be true? Could sharing stories of the beautiful, inspiring things that people do spark "copy cat" acts of kindness? This became the birth of the idea for this site; a site I hope becomes a community where not only I can share stories and spotlight individuals who show heroism through reaching out to others with compassion , but a forum where any reader who desires can share their stories as well. A place where people can come to be inspired, and gain the courage to go out and become an everyday hero themselves. Is anyone wondering,"But why start this now, don't you have enough on your plate?" The answer is "yes I do!", but I have felt strongly compelled to create this site; The "now" is because events of last weekend led to particularly heroic action in my behalf (don't worry, you'll get the scoop in my next post)and I couldn't figure out the appropriate way to thank a virtual stranger for such incredible compassion. A simple thank you note or flowers just didn't seem quite enough, so I hope public acknowledgement may begin to suffice...