Our unknown influence

One day when Zach was about three or four years old, he began asking me questions about what my life was like when I was little.  He asked me what kind of toys I had had.  I told him about my Easy Bake Oven and my Chatty Cathy. 

I told him about the old dolls we played with, with the chopped off hair and ink stained faces, a threadbare stuffed giraffe, plasticine cookies with a plastic tea set.

Months went by, and I never gave the conversation a second thought.  The following Christmas approached and we asked Zach what he wanted for Christmas.  "A stuffed giraffe," was the response.  I thought it was a bit of an odd request, but determined to find him a stuffed giraffe.  After all, it was the only thing he asked for.

Now this was in the days before Amazon or Ebay, and we had to actually go out hunting for the requested toy.  George and I both searched diligently but were unable to come up with a stuffed giraffe anywhere.  Of course, it's always the way, you might see a particular toy every year, but when it's the one your child wants, it's nowhere to be found.  We decided to try a new tack.  "Wouldn't you like some Lego, or a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle?  Maybe a Furby or a set of Power Rangers?"  No.  None of these things.  The only thing he wanted was a stuffed giraffe.  We never did find a stuffed giraffe that year, and Zach had to settle for other toys, but when the following Christmas rolled around we asked again, "what do you want for Christmas?" 

"A stuffed giraffe". 

Still?  This time George played the hero, and found a stuffed giraffe in a specialty store.  It was nothing special, maybe 10" tall, it was stuffed and it was a giraffe. 

We wrapped it up, put it under the tree.  Christmas morning Zach was delighted to find the stuffed giraffe he had longed for, for over a year. 

After the papers were gathered up, the ribbons and bows put away and Zach was busy with other pursuits, I picked up the giraffe and stroked its fur, wondering about his tenacity on wanting it.  "It's funny," I thought, "this reminds me of the stuffed giraffe I had as a child."  Suddenly it hit me.  The conversation from nearly two years previous came back to me in a rush.  He wanted a stuffed giraffe because I had had a stuffed giraffe.  The giraffe had never been special to me, it was just another toy in the box, and I happened to mention it.  It became special because I then realized how much more of an influence I was on him than I had ever dreamed.

Love for him filled my heart.  My little boy wanted to be like me!  I guess we just never know how our words or actions will affect someone, especially our children.

A few days ago I was on Facebook and it popped up some history for me.  This was an event I had totally forgotten about, but decided I want to save it here, because it was so meaningful to me at the time, and I don't want to forget it again.

The winter of 2014 was one of high snowfall here in Calgary.  Since we normally don't receive large amounts of snow, the City doesn't do much actual snow removal, mostly they just salt it and push it around.  Because of deep snow on the residential streets, getting around in a car became quite a challenge for many people.  The following is what I posted about one of my experiences with the snow.

Let me tell you about my morning.

Day before yesterday, the city crews came by and “ploughed” our street, which means that they just took the snow from the middle of the street and made it into a big pile beside our parked cars (they did this at 11 pm btw, so yes, our cars were parked on the street, go figure). Yesterday morning I managed to get out, but this morning, due to the thaw yesterday and the softening of the snow pile, I got stuck. Really, really stuck. Well, what to do? The very first thing I did was offer a little prayer. “Heavenly Father, please help me get my car unstuck so I can go to work”. Then I tried rocking the car back and forth. I tried putting salt down around my tires. I shovelled, put mats under my tires, shovelled some more, put down gravel. Nothing helped.

Let me interject here that in the past few weeks I have helped to push out four cars. I am 53 years old, morbidly obese and have a bad back. But when I see someone struggling I just can’t bear to abandon them without at least trying to help. You’d think that would build me up some good karma, but the few people to see me struggling during this time looked the other way. I thought about my little prayer, and how it seemed like it was going unanswered. I felt like crying, but knew that wasn’t going to help matters so I gulped back my tears, and decided to take another look to see if there was anything else to be done.

Looking under the car showed me I was probably high centered. I went to the shed and got a long-handled metal shovel and started shovelling out the ice chunks from under the car. I worked on it for over an hour.
Just as I had got to the point where I thought I had removed enough snow to try again, a young man in an SUV pulled up alongside, rolled down his window and asked me if I needed help. He pulled out a tow rope, attached it to my car and had me on my way in less than five minutes. I thanked him profusely, gave him a big hug, and proceeded to drive to work. Now the tears really did flow. I was SO grateful for his help.

I pondered this experience a lot on my drive in. Why had the Lord answered my prayer in this way? Certainly He could have sent someone along much quicker, and had me out sooner. But He waited until I had done ALL I could. The result was that when help came, I was a hundred times more grateful than if it had come immediately. I thought about my life and the times I have suffered and struggled and it seems like there no answers. I thought of those who suffer trials that seem unfair. Good people to whom bad things happen. I’ve always felt that those trials strengthen us and build our character, but today’s lesson really hit home about how much more grateful we are when we receive relief from something that is really hard.
So now I’m stiff and sore, my shoulders ache, my back hurts. But I am glad, and so grateful. Grateful for a stranger who stopped and was my knight in shining armour. And grateful for a loving Father who allows me to suffer a little, so I can learn life’s lessons.