By Clairetta Anderson
Minnesota, USA
Easter morning in April of 2001, my husband was injured by a hit and run drunk driver. His back injuries kept him from working normally — if at all. Even with frequent chiropractor visits his discomfort was great.
By August, I mentioned to my friend Connie that we were going to have to go to the Food Bank in our area as we were low on food. Our insurance company hadn’t paid my husband’s claim for his lost wages. We had applied to an organization which helps victims of crime. But they were having a difficult time getting forms back from my husbands’ ex-employer, the chiropractor and the hospital where he was treated the morning of the crash.
Connie kept asking questions about how in the world were we making it. I said we were doing whatever was necessary to survive. She asked numerous questions about our well being. I told her my husband had (understandably) pretty much given up and sunk into a depression. He would shut me out when I tried to talk to him. Connie responded, “I’m here. Talk away.” After about two hours, I left thinking only that she was very kind to show such concern.
Two days later, I responded to a loud persistent knock. It was Connie, with two big bags of groceries in her arms. I exclaimed, “Connie, you bought us groceries!” She simply gave me a lopsided grin and replied, “I accidentally ended up buying two of everything.” I commented that it was really great of her to do this. She ducked her head. I told her when we could I would give her something for her generosity. She said her back was hurting, then left quickly.
I couldn’t wait for my husband to come home so I could show him the food in our refrigerator and cupboard — not telling him who had brought it. I kept him in suspense until I had shown him everything. He was amazed. This was exactly what he needed to restore his faith in humanity. We had a full meal, which we hadn’t had for some time. We were so thankful.
Two weeks later, a check for some of my husband’s lost wages finally arrived from our insurance company.
Out of all the people who knew our situation, Connie was the only one who decided to do something to help. Through her kind generosity, Connie restored our belief that people really do care about each other and, given the opportunity, will help wherever they can.
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What that neighbor did is the easiest way I can think of to give just what was needed–by buying two of everything that she, herself, would want at the grocery store. And not too hard for any of us to do.