The Saturday Journal: Only God can Give these Kind of Gifts

I signed up for this vendor and craft show a few weeks ago. And the closer it came to the day–the more anxious I became. Not in the sense of joyful anticipation. It was more dread– remorse that I had even signed up in the first place.

It’s hard sharing your work–your words in print for others to see–read–critique–pick up and touch and for goodness sakes–considering buying?

I spread out one of my Mama’s quilts–covered the table assigned to me–unloaded books and cards and signs. And then I sat down at the table--hung my head down and I wrote--hoping no one would walk over to my table. It reminded me during my childhood days in the classroom when it was time to read aloud. And no matter how low my head was–how deep I sunk down in my desk–it never failed. My teacher still called out my name–’read the next paragraph, please.’ And somehow I mumbled and stammered and got through it.

My office at the school where I used to work was tucked away in the back of the library. It was in a perfect location–the library of all places!! And one day the media specialist was cleaning out drawers and files and in a box were hundreds of unused old library cards–the ones that had the date due, borrower’s name and a place to write the name of the book. They fit perfectly in an envelope glued in the back of the book cover. A borrower would write their name and the librarian would write the due date and then file the card in the alphabetized wooden box. All that, sadly, has been replaced by a scanner and barcodes–like many other simple and wonderful things in our lives–like handwritten price tags–cursive writing--stationery–letters.

I asked her if I could possibly have some of the cards and she said–take all you want and I did. So for a while now instead of using post-it notes, I have been using my library cards. And just so happened on this day at the vendor fair–I had a few. Never know when a story idea or a blessing will happen and I need to write it down in fear of forgetting–which I often do. On this day I labeled my card–Craft Fair–November 11, 2023. And my list began–a heart notating each blessing–each act of kindness.

I lift up my head and see her coming toward my table. I recognize her–an old friend. And we talked and hugged and our eyes watered. We reminisced about her Daddy and her husband. She’s a widow now. She bought my children’s book, X-Marks the Spot for her grandchildren. And she wanted me to sign it for her--for them. And I wrote, what a wonderful and beautiful grandmother you are blessed to have.

Another lady visited my table–she told me she goes to the church just above the high school. She thumbed through my Christmas devotional, His Coming and she bought one. Then right before the fair ended–an hour or so later she came back. And this is what she said, ‘I went home and read a lot of your Christmas devotional. I want to buy ten more for friends.’ And I was humbled to the point of no words–only gratitude.

A dear lady shared the story of a 4-year old who was recently diagnosed with leukemia. The child goes to her church and she asked me to pray for the young child. She wanted to buy X-Marks the Spot for the child and I said no. And she thanked me and walked away with two books--one for the child and another copy for her church’s library.

And there were others–a high school classmate of my daughter’s with a beautiful young girl of her own now. A former colleague I haven’t seen in a while and we had the best conversation. A loving grandmother sharing stories about her grandchildren and the blessing of them all being saved. And a young girl–a teenager and I asked her if she was a reader and she smiled and said, ‘Not really, but I’m reading my Bible. I’m on chapter four.' And I gave her a bookmark to keep her place.

She has three daughters and she loves the Lord, her family, and any fur baby. She’s a light anywhere she goes and I am blessed to work with her a few days a week. She bought X-Marks the Spot for a library at Brenner’s Hospital and copies for her nieces and her children. And I was able to give her a book for her church library as well. But it was on Monday morning when she walked in the office and surprised me with this, ‘Oh my goodness, I wish you could have been in my car on the way home from the craft show. My children read your book out loud and loved it!’

And that right there along with every story over the past month--every book bought and given as a gift--was worth every frustration, every disappointment, every delay, every struggle–and the waiting for three and a half long years to get this little book to print. God's timing is always better than mine.

Before I could get the key out of the ignition, he was out of his seatbelt reaching over me searching for coins in the console. ‘The lady with the bell is here with her red bucket!’ he said, all excited. ‘They help people with that money. People who need food, clothes, and the homeless. Did you know that Granna?’

The older lady–her hair was the color of a sunny day cloud. She was pushing the empty grocery cart with one hand and holding onto her car for balance with the other. I told her my grandson and I would be glad to take her cart to the bin. She thanked us and without taking her hand off the car–she made her way to the driver’s side.

The closer we got to the bell ringer–the more excited he became. He ran to the bucket and put his donation in and the bell ringer–her smile turned into laughter. ‘You want to ring the bell?’ she asked.

‘Sure!’

And he rang the bell loud. And the bell ringer–her laughter--even louder.

We made our way back to the car with our groceries and before I could get the hatch shut after loading our items, there he was–helping the lady beside our car. ‘I’ll take your cart, mam.’ And she gave my grandson a big hug, thanked him for his kindness and told him she was proud of him. I was too. And she told us she was a foster grandparent at a nearby elementary school.

My grandson and I–we talked a little more on the ride home about what a foster grandparent is and how God smiles when we extend a simple act of kindness to others. And I looked in my rearview mirror and the foster grandparent was in her car behind us. And she was smiling. My grandson looked back also and laughed and said, ‘She is still smiling!’

That’s what a little kindness will do–

Later that evening we sat across from each other at a favorite restaurant and I asked if he would pray before we eat. He did and when we lifted our heads a gentleman walked by us and laid his hand on my grandson’s shoulder and said, ‘I liked that. Good job, young man.’ And my grandson asked me, ‘Why did he say that?’

And I answered, “Maybe because he saw you thanking God for our food and your prayer blessed him.”

“Oh, okay.” and my grandson smiled and said, “These fries and shrimp are amazing!”

And I take another blank library card from the stack–another note card to pin to the board--counting my blessings of this past week and I write..

--miracles and answered prayers for healings

--smiles in abundance

--kindness in the everyday moments of our not-so ordinary days

--undeserved mercy and grace

--love

--fellowship and gatherings at my church with the Women's Bible Study group

--giggles and laughter at Christmas play practice

--and in the wee hours of this Saturday morning--my great nephew was born and baby boy and his Mama are doing great.

Only God can give these kind of gifts.

A humble thank you for reading The Saturday Journal.

My prayer is to share The Saturday Journal every Saturday or at least bi-weekly--

but always on Saturdays. If you would like to have The Saturday Journal come to your email box, please subscribe to A Beautiful Grace blog and newsletter at

http://www.tathelmiller.com

All photos @copyright Tathel Miller, unless otherwise credited to another photographer.

-