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Show MY MOST INSPIRING MOMENT By TAYLOR GALDWELL Author of "A Prologue to Love" and "Dear and Glorious Physician" We . As I climbed the dusty K stairs, I couldn't help crying. What was to - become of me and - :'JjiJA ""teacherinoret . A Sweet Pcccc Flooded f.la Our dinner that night was the most delicious I had ever eaten. I could only pray in myself, 'Thank You, Father." I forgot I had no money for the rent, X - cited that I forgot I was looking for a job and went directly to her small house in which she was spending her retirement years. She took the umbrella and her eyes filled with tears. The teacher wanted to give me a reward, but her joy was sufficient, and though I had but $20 in all the world and desperately needed money, I refused the offer. We talked for a while, and I mustliave given her my address. I don't remember. Christmas dinner tomorrow, and gelatin. I stood in the cold little kitchen, and my grief and misery x overwhelmed me. For the first time in my life, I doubted the existence of God and His mercy, and than ice. . the coldness in my heart was colder The doorbell rang, and my little girl ran fleetly to answer it, calling that it must be Santa Claus. Then I heard a man talking heartily to her and went to the door. He was a delivery man and his arms were full of big parcels, and he was laughing .at my child's frenzied joy and her dancing. 'This is a mistake," I said, but he read the name on the parcels, and they were for me. When he had gone I could only stare at the boxes. Mary and I sat on the floor and opened them. A huge doll, three times the size of the one I had bought for her. Gloves. Candy. A beautiful leather purse! Incredible. I looked for the name of the sender. It was the teacher, who had given her address only as California, where she had apparently moved. snowdrifts, I just about reached the lowest point in my. life. Unless a miracle happened I would be homeless in January, foodless, jobless. I had prayed steadily for weeks, and there had been no answer but this coldness and darkness, this harsh air, this abandonment God and men had completely forgotten me. I felt old as death, and as lonely. What was to become of us? I looked in my mailbox. There were only bills in it, a sheaf of them, and two white envelopes which I was sure contained more bills. I went up three dusty flights of stairs, and I cried, shivering, in my thin coat. But I. made myself smile so I could greet my little daughter with a pretense of happiness. She opened the door for me and threw herself in my arms, screaming joyously and demanding that we decorate the tree immediately. She waslesslhanTsix years old, and had been alone all day while I worked. She had set our kitchen table for our evening meal, proudly, and put pans out and the three cans of food which would be our dinner. For some reason, .when I looked at those pans "and cans, I felt brokenhearted. We would have only hamburgers for our have "inspiring moments" in our lives, comfort us when things seem most hopeless and despairing, when we. have lost our . faith, it seems, in God and man, when we feel the snost abandoned and isolated. We often think of these moments as direct gifts of the Grace of God, little golden mementos we can open before our eyes in the dark night of our souls. My most inspiring moment began, prosaically enough, six months before I reached the very torn of my despair, when I was in the greatest need of help. Recently divorced, I was in my 20s, had no job, and was on the way downtown in a late spring rain to go the rounds of the employment offices. I had no umbrella, for my old one had fallen apart, and I could not affordanother one. I sat down in the streetcar, and there against the seat was a beautiful silk umbrella with a silver handle inlaid with gold and flecks of bright enamel I had never seen anything so lovely. I examined the handle and sawa name engraved among the golden scrolls. My first impulse was to give the umbrella to the conductor, then for some mysterious reason I decided to take it with me and find the owner, myself. I got off the streetcar in a downpour and thankfully opened the umbrella to protect myself. Then I searched a telephone .book for the name on the umbrella, and found it I then called the number and a lady answered. Yes, she said in surprise, that was her umbrella, which her- parents, now dead, had given her for a birthday present But, she added, it had been stolen from her locker at school (she was a all ; : my-child- L V. :: AY . JI,,t,llt-iti- i ill iiiii1J.,nilfnri"'iU' M m . .;-;. - u The Bottom of r.ly Despair Ttie next six months were very wretched. I was able to obtain only temporary employment here, and there, for a small salary, though this was what they now call the "Roaring Twenties." But I put aside 25 or 50 cents when I could afford it for my little girl's Christmas presents. (It took me six months to save $8.) My last job ended the day before Christmas, my rent was coming due, arid I had only $15, sufficient lor food for two weeks. My little girl was home from her convent boarding school and was excitedly looking forward to her I gifts next day, which I had already purchased. to hadJxMght her a small tree, and we Were going X . v decoratelit that night 1 The stormy air was full of the sound of Christmas merriment and excitement as I walked from the streetcar to my small apartment Bells rang and children shouted in the bitter dusk of the evewas ning, and windows were lighted and everyone would be no running and laughing. But there o remem Christmas for The, I knew, norgifts,-nbrance whatsoever. As I struggled through the I J r . m . and only $15 in my purse and no job. My child arid I ate and laughed together in happiness. Then we decorated the little tree and marveled at it. I put Mary to bed and set up her gifts around the -. tree, and a sweet peace flooded me like a benediction. I had some hope again. I could even examine the sheaf of bills without cringing. Then I opened the two white envelopes. One contained a check for $30 from a company I had worked for brieflyin the summerr It was, said a note, my "Christmas bonus." My rent! The other envelope was an offer of a permanent position with the government to begin two days after Christmas. I sat with the letter in my hand and the check on the table before me, and I think that was the most joyful moment of my life " up to that time. The church bells began to ring. I hurriedly looked at my child, who was sleeping blissfully, and ran down to the street Everywhere people were walking to church to celebrate the birth of the Saviour. I joined the throngs. I was no longer alone. People smiled at me and I smiled back. The storm had stopped, the sky was pure and glittering vividly with stars. I did not know it then, but a great change had taken place in my life, and was waiting just around the corner. "I I7c3 Kcvcr Abr.o ' s ,,, ILLUSTRATIONS BY i iiilmi MAC CONNOR mmmv "T V"" mi "iWrlT at AI2" "The Lord is born!" sang the bells to the crystal night and the laughing darkness. Someone began to sing, "Come, all ye Faithful!" I joined in and sang with the strangers all about me, and we all clasped hands and trooped together into the warm golden light of the church. '1 am not alone at all," I thought, looking at the , blazing altar. "I was never alone at all." And that is the most inspiring thing we can ever learn that we are never alone. Never alone, not even in the depths of despair and silence and sorrow of our lives, when we appear most friendless, arid there seems no answer to our prayers. Family Weekly, December 24, 1861 |