In the “everything happens for a reason” department…
I wanted to get that birdfeeder set up that I got for Mother’s Day; we needed a large screw to put into the end of the porch overhang so that I could have it right outside my window here as I sit at the computer. Richard promises not to bump his head on it. And we needed a small metal trashcan to keep the seed in outside.
Every time we made plans to go to the hardware store this past week, which is not even a mile from our house, somehow it just didn’t happen. Till last night.
It was near to closing time and the store was pretty quiet. We were going up and down the far aisles after we found the small trashcan: chewproof metal with a small hole already in the center of the lid so the seed can air out. Item one done.
As we looked, there was a man with his own cart looking for something or other; we did the usual not-really-paying-attention-to-each-other as we passed.
I stopped. Richard continued forward with our cart, but I backed up. I went over to the guy, and told him, “I like your T-shirt.” That stopped him as he did the sudden surprised reaction of thinking wait, which one am I wearing? Oh, right. Stanford Blood Center written across the front.
I told him, “Seven people donated blood in January and saved my life.”
He looked in my eyes in wonder and gratitude, then got a faraway look and his eyes got misty. I added, “Thank you,” and turned at the end of the aisle and away.