Thanks-giving

The day was gray and bitter with intermittent freezing rain. It was 1977 and Thanksgiving was a week away. Rob and our two-year-old son, both sick with colds, were huddled on the bedroom floor beneath a blanket fort. The fort was amply furnished with books, toys, pillows and tissues. A short safe distance away the radiating bright orange glow sticks of a small electric heater stood sentry.

I’d tucked all the money we had in the world in the front pocket of my jeans. One twenty dollar bill and two tens. Hopping into the old Fiat, I took off to accomplish two errands.  Behind the front seat lay one leather boot with a broken zipper. A week before, I’d taken it to a shoe repair shop to see if I could get it fixed in time for Thanksgiving. The wizened gentleman, hair a tussle, and smeary duct-taped eyeglasses resting half way down the bridge of his nose, harrumphed out a “Nope, can’t fix it.” Then added “but if you take it to a luggage shop, they should be able to do it.”  He pushed his glasses up toward his eyes. Noticing the quizzical look on my face, he added, “There’s a shop in the next town.” I didn’t respond. “Here, I’ll draw you a map,” he said.

We only lived there a couple of months. I barely knew the town I was in, let alone the next town and I needed to be careful with gas. Money was tight back then. So, I combined the grocery shopping with the boot repair. My new plan was to drop the boot off at the luggage shop and pick it up in a week when we would have a few more dollars.  I could wear them for Christmas instead of Thanksgiving. Then off to the supermarket to stretch forty dollars into a week’s provisions.

Even through the haze and rain I found the shop without a problem with a great parking spot across the street. I waited for the traffic to slow and darted to the shop with boot in hand. The bell of the door startled two middle-aged men conversing at a counter – brothers I thought, and owners.

I recounted my problem and the shoe repairman’s recommendation. The older brother reached out and took the boot. He looked at it for a few seconds and disappeared into a back room. It was toasty warm inside. The floor to ceiling shelves were chock full of every size bag and suitcase in shades ranging from beige to darkest brown. I breathed in the heavy scent of leather and glanced back to the younger brother. I thought I should say something but before I could, the older one returned with a scissor, a needle and thread. “Let me show you this in case it ever happens again.” he offered. He slit the bottom of the zipper carefully and then a few quick stitches in the right place and voila! His brother watched with pride. I was amazed! But also nervous. I wasn’t planning on paying for a repair. I was hoping to leave it there and pick it up. But before I even asked how much he said, “Eh, just give me seventy-five cents.”

What a wonderful, unexpected joy on an otherwise gloomy morning. God is so good, I thought.

Forty dollars was certainly better than nothing but not enough for a week’s worth of groceries.  We were out of everything that day, including non-food items like shampoo, dish detergent and diapers. But now it was thirty-nine twenty five. Impossible! Still I was hopeful and happy.

I said a quick prayer of thanks and turned the key in the ignition. I put the car in drive and stepped on the gas pedal. It went to the floor and stayed there. The car didn’t move. Neither did I. I sat stunned wondering what to do. I loved that old Fiat when it was working but it almost never was.

This was a real problem. I didn’t even know where I was. Even if I could call Rob and explain it, how would he get there? We didn’t have another car. Besides, he and the baby were sick. They couldn’t go out in that weather. We didn’t know anyone close by. There was no one to call.

I bowed my head and prayed, telling the Lord I had no idea what to do and asked for wisdom. As I lifted my head my eyes were drawn to a small sign on the side of the luggage store building. All around it was the gray gloom of a rainy day, but the sign itself was lit with a crack of sunlight.  It read “Foreign Car Repair” – underneath a small arrow pointing to the back.

I hurried across and behind the building to an open garage with a small office attached.  I approached a slender man with thick dark hair wrenching something under the hood of an olive green compact car and described my problem.  He popped his head up and said, ”Give me the keys.” Without hesitation, I tossed my keys to this stranger. A few minutes later he drove the Fiat up his driveway and parked it behind the green car fitting just the front inside the garage, out of the rain.

He jumped out and cheerfully exclaimed, “It’s just the accelerator cable! It’s busted.” He headed for the back wall where his shelves of parts and tools hung. While he was perusing his inventory, I stood shivering and wondering how much it would cost and how I would pay for it. Would I have to leave the car there? Could this, like the boot, be a small miracle? Would the cost be $39.25? I didn’t know what I would do for food but at least I could get home.

He ducked into the office for a minute and emerged with a metal coat hanger and a wire cutter.  Still cheerful, he said, “I don’t have the part, sorry. I’ll have to order it. In the meantime, I’m going to make you a cable out of this hanger.” He continued, “The part will take a week or two to come in and this fix should last you that long, even longer, really.”

It took him about fifteen minutes of cutting and twisting the hanger. He was very proud of his design and wanted me to see it. Then he said, “Jump in, try it out.” It worked perfectly as I backed out of the garage.

I got out, thanked him and asked how much. He said, “No charge, just promise me you’ll come back when the part is in.”

Of course I promised! As I drove away, thanking God with so much joy in my soul, more and more cracks of sunshine began to emerge.

I don’t remember what I bought at the store. I do know we didn’t starve that week which was a miracle that repeated itself many times back then. And when I got home there were two smiling faces to greet me.