jester journals

Weird Ramblings from a Warped Mind


It’s Never Too Late To Make Things Right… 12-22-2014

I came across the title of this post several weeks back. It wasn’t the first time I had seen it, but for some reason, it just stuck with me this time. And it prodded me to action.

It’s been 35 years… at least. I was in high school, so sometime in the late 1970s. It was December… Christmas to be exact. And my Mom, Jessie Rae, and I were going to spend a few days with my Grandmother.

To make things a little easier, we had our Christmas before we went. I was the only one still at home so we opened our gifts a day or two early rather than take them with us and have to bring them back home. Being that age, I thought nothing of it.

But someone else did.

We arrived at my Grandmother’s sometime about December 23rd. Now this wasn’t a cross-country trip… only about 50 miles or so. And my Grandmother lived between my Aunt and Uncle (Jessie Rae’s sister) on one side and my cousin on the other.

My cousin saw us arrive and noticed there were no gifts. Now to be sure, times were tough. Jessie Rae had been out of work for a while and I don’t think I was quite old enough to have a job yet. But again, we had opened our few gifts at home early just to ease the trip. And again, I thought nothing of it.

But someone else did.

Christmas morning arrived. I awoke early. And I was surprised to see a number, quite a number, of gifts under my Grandmother’s tree. Knowing we had already had our Christmas, I didn’t bother the gifts.

But later that morning, my cousin came over from next door. She wanted to know how I had enjoyed the presents… and couldn’t believe they were still under the tree unopened.

So as it turns out, knowing how tight things were at our home, and seeing us arrive empty–handed, she had gone out, last minute, and bought me an almost entirely new wardrobe, then wrapped them all, and snuck them in my Grandmother’s home.

And several weeks ago, I saw the title of this post… It’s Never Too Late To Make Things Right. So after 35+ years, I wrote her a note to thank her for her generosity. And to let her know I had never forgotten her kind gesture. But more than that… how it had helped me become a person who gives. And like her… I give without expecting a return.

I could have missed out on that lesson. Someone might not have shared that lesson with me.

But someone else did.

Thank you Lorretta… for your kindness. Your love. And for showing me how to share from the heart.

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