The Leaves of Change
The sky was beginning to cloud over, the leaves had turned and fallen gently to the ground below. Summer was over and the crisp mornings of Fall were upon us. The forecast for rain found me busily working on remodeling our kitchen. With one frustrating setback after the next, I found myself questioning my ability to finish such a sizable project and wondering why I even started it in the first place. The little voice inside my head a constant reminder of the consequences of my failure, while offering no acceptable solutions. My head was hung, my spirit beat as I finished tossing the remnants of our old kitchen into the trailer for yet another dump run.
Driving along with the radio off, I was walking through the electrical diagram in my head. My focus was interrupted as worries of the timeline surfaced, how the drywall, cabinets, granite and flooring would all have come together in the week to follow. How can I see it through?
I was so busy that I almost missed it as I drove past. It was an older man out raking a massive amount of leaves from a large maple into piles on the ground. I thought for a moment about stopping, but quickly came to my senses as I thought of the the rain that was soon to fall and the work that I had yet finished. I continued on, but the image of this man stuck with me, I felt strongly that I should turn around, but I appeased my conscience with a promise to swing by and help on my way home despite the inconvenience.
As I pulled up near the house I noticed that the man only had one arm. Now feeling foolish for my prior selfishness, I was eager to offer my help. I was certain that he needed me much more than I needed him. As I approached he turned towards me revealing that he did not have either arm. Hiding my surprise the best I could, I greeted him and we talked for a short while. After a while I asked if I could help. He agreed, but what came next I will never forget. I asked how long he has lived here and he shared that this was not his property. This property was owned by an old widower who did not have the ability to rake his own leaves anymore. I could feel my eyes swell as I turned quickly back to the work in front of me. I later wrote down in my journal the the thought that came to my head next. Foolish is he that spends his days counting his trials, with two capable hands at idle.
As we said our goodbyes he told me thank you, I remember feeling so undeserving of those words. I wanted to tell him everything, but how could he know the inner workings of my heart, I could not possibly explain it to him. How one simple decision to trust in the good workings of my heart changed my life in a far greater than I ever thought a pile of leaves could. I learned that day through experience that charity is not the amount we give or a perfect society where no one falls behind, but rather it is the gift with pure intent when we feel like we have nothing else to give. The personal growth that comes from charity, is earned in the stretch beyond ones comfort zone, when the choice is made to set aside our trials to help another.
The rain came as expected that Fall, but the lesson still stands etched in my heart. My renewed focus proved to be enough as the work in the kitchen soon finished on schedule. But what I will always remember best about that kitchen, is the day that I was lifted up by the man with no arms.
May this be the day that we learn to cast aside our trials as we strive to serve another. That at the end of the day may we drift off to sleep actively counting our abundant blessing. Just like the words of one of a great song....
Count your blessings
When I'm worried and I can't sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep and I fall asleep counting my blessings
when my bankroll is getting small I think of when I had none at all
and I fall asleep counting my blessings.
I think about a nursery,
and I picture curly heads,
and one by one I count them
as they slumber in their beds.
If you're worried and you cant sleep,
just count your blessings instead of sheep
and you'll fall asleep counting your blessings
Driving along with the radio off, I was walking through the electrical diagram in my head. My focus was interrupted as worries of the timeline surfaced, how the drywall, cabinets, granite and flooring would all have come together in the week to follow. How can I see it through?
I was so busy that I almost missed it as I drove past. It was an older man out raking a massive amount of leaves from a large maple into piles on the ground. I thought for a moment about stopping, but quickly came to my senses as I thought of the the rain that was soon to fall and the work that I had yet finished. I continued on, but the image of this man stuck with me, I felt strongly that I should turn around, but I appeased my conscience with a promise to swing by and help on my way home despite the inconvenience.
As I pulled up near the house I noticed that the man only had one arm. Now feeling foolish for my prior selfishness, I was eager to offer my help. I was certain that he needed me much more than I needed him. As I approached he turned towards me revealing that he did not have either arm. Hiding my surprise the best I could, I greeted him and we talked for a short while. After a while I asked if I could help. He agreed, but what came next I will never forget. I asked how long he has lived here and he shared that this was not his property. This property was owned by an old widower who did not have the ability to rake his own leaves anymore. I could feel my eyes swell as I turned quickly back to the work in front of me. I later wrote down in my journal the the thought that came to my head next. Foolish is he that spends his days counting his trials, with two capable hands at idle.
As we said our goodbyes he told me thank you, I remember feeling so undeserving of those words. I wanted to tell him everything, but how could he know the inner workings of my heart, I could not possibly explain it to him. How one simple decision to trust in the good workings of my heart changed my life in a far greater than I ever thought a pile of leaves could. I learned that day through experience that charity is not the amount we give or a perfect society where no one falls behind, but rather it is the gift with pure intent when we feel like we have nothing else to give. The personal growth that comes from charity, is earned in the stretch beyond ones comfort zone, when the choice is made to set aside our trials to help another.
The rain came as expected that Fall, but the lesson still stands etched in my heart. My renewed focus proved to be enough as the work in the kitchen soon finished on schedule. But what I will always remember best about that kitchen, is the day that I was lifted up by the man with no arms.
Count your blessings
When I'm worried and I can't sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep and I fall asleep counting my blessings
when my bankroll is getting small I think of when I had none at all
and I fall asleep counting my blessings.
I think about a nursery,
and I picture curly heads,
and one by one I count them
as they slumber in their beds.
If you're worried and you cant sleep,
just count your blessings instead of sheep
and you'll fall asleep counting your blessings
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