I read a great little story that, in my mind, beautifully encapsulates the true spirit of Christmas. You can read the same story over at Rude Cactus.
I have my own little story I'd like to share, although it is not exactly Christmas related. It is about giving and generosity, though.
Last Thursday I came home from work, pulled the car in the garage, went into the house, started removing my boots and coat and then heard a horrible crashing sound come from the garage. I went out and took a look. At first I didn't see anything wrong. After a minute or two I noticed a large, rusty spring laying on the garage floor next to the car. I looked up and saw that one half of the garage door track was broken. A wire had snapped, the spring had broken, and the pulley system was all out of whack. I then checked out the car, expecting to see a huge dent somewhere but found nothing. I tied opening the door and to my amazement, it somehow still opened and closed.
I did not have the energy to deal with this on Friday. I figured I would deal with it on Monday morning. On Sunday The Boy mentioned my most recent housing woe to his dad, who immediately offered to come over to fix it for me. Sunday evening before dinner they stopped at Lowes to grab the necessary parts and headed over. The Boy's father amazes me with his handyman abilities. He knew exactly what he needed to get before even looking at my garage. He needed no instructions whatsoever on how to hook everything up. He just dove right in as if he did this type of job every day. This is just a hobby for him and not at all related to what he does for his day job. He was done in probably 45 minutes. The garage door now works better than it ever has.
So to thank The Boy's dad for his kindness and generosity I thought it would be nice to bake him some cookies. So on Monday afternoon I went to the store to get what I needed for the cookies, and baked. The cookies came out awful. Every batch was either underdone or overdone. Now, I am not a great baker by any means, but these were the worst cookies by far that I have ever made. I was so disheartened. I was so disappointed and had no idea what else to do to thank The Boy's dad. The Boy inspected the cookies on Tuesday morning and started picking out the ones he thought looked decent. I added a thank you to the Christmas card I had for the parents, and The Boy took that plus the small gift I bought for them and about 20 cookies home with him. I was so embarrassed about the cookies and instructed The Boy to inform his parents that I normally make much better cookies and that the dying oven was at least partially to blame. It's the thought that counts, right?
A previous, much more successful, attempt at baking cookies
I have my own little story I'd like to share, although it is not exactly Christmas related. It is about giving and generosity, though.
Last Thursday I came home from work, pulled the car in the garage, went into the house, started removing my boots and coat and then heard a horrible crashing sound come from the garage. I went out and took a look. At first I didn't see anything wrong. After a minute or two I noticed a large, rusty spring laying on the garage floor next to the car. I looked up and saw that one half of the garage door track was broken. A wire had snapped, the spring had broken, and the pulley system was all out of whack. I then checked out the car, expecting to see a huge dent somewhere but found nothing. I tied opening the door and to my amazement, it somehow still opened and closed.
I did not have the energy to deal with this on Friday. I figured I would deal with it on Monday morning. On Sunday The Boy mentioned my most recent housing woe to his dad, who immediately offered to come over to fix it for me. Sunday evening before dinner they stopped at Lowes to grab the necessary parts and headed over. The Boy's father amazes me with his handyman abilities. He knew exactly what he needed to get before even looking at my garage. He needed no instructions whatsoever on how to hook everything up. He just dove right in as if he did this type of job every day. This is just a hobby for him and not at all related to what he does for his day job. He was done in probably 45 minutes. The garage door now works better than it ever has.
So to thank The Boy's dad for his kindness and generosity I thought it would be nice to bake him some cookies. So on Monday afternoon I went to the store to get what I needed for the cookies, and baked. The cookies came out awful. Every batch was either underdone or overdone. Now, I am not a great baker by any means, but these were the worst cookies by far that I have ever made. I was so disheartened. I was so disappointed and had no idea what else to do to thank The Boy's dad. The Boy inspected the cookies on Tuesday morning and started picking out the ones he thought looked decent. I added a thank you to the Christmas card I had for the parents, and The Boy took that plus the small gift I bought for them and about 20 cookies home with him. I was so embarrassed about the cookies and instructed The Boy to inform his parents that I normally make much better cookies and that the dying oven was at least partially to blame. It's the thought that counts, right?
A previous, much more successful, attempt at baking cookies
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