Wishing for Warmth and Blue Skies

Okay, so I thought that I could live in a dually with my husband for a week and trust me, it was a complete week. A dually for those of you who do not know is an oversized pickup truck. Not a Semi that has more than a back seat. All there is, is the back seat and nowhere to run away to when you want to be alone. Big mistake. I feel dirty, helpless, hopeless, tired and if I want to get up and move around then I have to wait until a time presents itself and step outside in the cold weather elements. I have had to squat outside, help strap cars down in the freezing rain, get squished in the back seat by husband who always seems to have to change positions every five minutes so it takes at least eight hours to get four hours of sleep. Ugghh, Anyone who could see my nails right now would think I am homeless and after all of this, I still seem to have hope. No sanity left, but hope (probably because Jeff finally got me a hotel room) for this quest to find work to get the THE Big Truck that I want and maybe get enough money put together so that we can have a little capital to run on and THEN, I can get my camera equipment, finish school and become this amazing Photo-Journalist that I want to be. I have figured out that I want to be a feature writer. The Society pages. Yes, I want to bring real life stories to the world that will give hope, spread love and touch hearts. Whew, that just gave me chills. Oh yeah, and give people chills.


So, getting off topic I would love to share something that happened to me last night. About Five-Thirty in the morning my husbands phone rang so I answered it. I said “Hello” and what I heard just threw me. On the other end of the line a very young female voice came across asking me why I was answering her husbands phone and she said it with words I don’t care to repeat and in words I also do not want to repeat, I let her know that this was my husbands phone and that she had the wrong phone number, She then replied with a simple response, “Sure it is!” Well, at that point my husband grabbed the phone from me and hung it up. Well, that was not the end of that. The next morning that young girl was weighing heavily on my mind and I just could not help myself so, I called her back. Yes, I really did. I told her who I was and asked her if she was alright and if she had found her husband. She replied that yes, she was fine and that her husband had been at work and she honestly did not remember calling me and apologized. Then, she started to cry. That just took my heart away. Turns out that she was twenty-five years old and her parents had moved away to Alaska and she was in Kansas City. She emphasized so much on how far away they were, stating that they were three-thousand miles away and that she missed her mommy and what a daddy’s girl she really was. Her dad had come back for a short visit and so she had gone to her brother’s, which was quite a way’s from where she lived, to stay a few day’s and be with her dad and then her husband was to come and get her the next day upon getting off of work. She cried that she missed him and life was just so hard trying to grow up and be this grown-up on this big bad world that just wanted to eat her alive. I could relate so much. This girl was the same age as my daughter and my daughter is a mother of three and in the Air Force. I am so proud of her. In just a few months we will be calling her Sergeant Woodward, Mam. It amazes me that our children become so large and self sufficient at this age and it warms my heart so much to know that our children still have that longing to be mommy or daddy’s little boys and girls. I don’t believe that ever goes away. I still want my mommy almost every day and I am a grandmother myself. It also makes me remind myself about those who do not share those precious memories of childhood or those who are children that do not have that comfort that is so naturally desired by most.

I have heard lately, some complaining about the American government giving so much aid to Haiti after a horrible earthquake destroyed so much of their world and so many of their lives. It seems that some feel that there are far worse in need right here in their own country that they can not help, why are we sending money that we do not have to help another country. To some this makes no sense what-so-ever but the simple action of me listening to that inner voice that told me to call that little girl and help her was an action of one person reaching out to save another and so when I think about the issue of the American government helping Haiti and I don’t see it as one starving country trying to feed another, it is simply one person, or many, reaching out to make action happen to help another, and then, as many more as possible. Goodness, mercy, forgiveness, it all comes back around. I believe that. People get what they give. It’s seems to be a proven cycle and if some feel as if they give much more than they receive then maybe they need to really take a close look at their actions and see if the giving that they gave was self-serving in any way.

Anyway, the phone call that I made to that little girl lasted thirty minutes and she thanked me for answering that voice in my head and calling her because she needed to talk to someone so bad that would just listen, not try to solve the problem, she can do that, she just needed someone to care. It made me feel so thankful that I had been right there at that time to be that person that she needed. That’s all. It is sometimes the poor blessing the poor that makes us rich. If one American helps a person in Haiti, maybe as a direct result, an American will be helped. Think about that.