A Day of Miracles and Wonder

Standard

Postbox, British, Red, Monday, Post, LetterIt was Monday morning. I left my friend’s house at 7:30, when she left to drop her kid off at school. I ate breakfast at Taco Bell and drank a cup of coffee while I wrote in my notebook. I left when I needed to so I’d get to my tire rotation appointment right on time, even with delays for traffic and road construction, but the Discount Tire wasn’t where it was supposed to be. I drove in circles for a while, but couldn’t locate the tire shop.

I was in one of those cities where the main street turns numbered avenues into numbered streets, and east or west in an address is important,. I hadn’t paid attention to east and west, and now I was screwed. I was going to miss my appointment.

I know there’s one around here somewhere, I muttered to myself, and there it was up ahead. I was on the right street but at the wrong number. I parked and went into the customer service area anyway.

I think I’m in the wrong place, I said apologetically to the guy behind the counter. He checked his computer. I was definitely in the wrong place.

He told me not to worry about it. It happens all the time, he said. People go there looking for us–people come here looking for them. He could take care of me right where I was. He’d text the other store and let them know what had happened., I should be out of there in about an hour.

Not only did I get my tires rotated even though I ended up in the wrong place, I didn’t receive any bad news. I wasn’t told I neeed new tires or an alignment. There was no talk of tires wearing unevenly or unusually fast. Nothing was amiss, and I got out of there in 45 minutes.

The second miracle involved money. I’d been super stressed about money the past few days. I’d received the lastCoins, Currency, Investment, Insurance, Cash, Banking of my unemployment benefits, and I was about two months away from the start of my seasonal work. I had money saved, but would it last? Also, I was planning to take a long-anticipated road trip with my sibling, but maybe the financially responsible thing to do would be to sit in one place and conserve until it was time to report to work.

I pulled into the supermarket parking lot and stopped the van in a designated space. I grabbed an old flyer so I could jot down my grocery list. When I unfolded the flyer, I noticed somehting flutter. I looked down and saw money! A one dollar bill and a five were on the floor. Where did that come from? I wondered as I reached down to grab the bills. I figured The Man had given me cash for his share of something I’d paid for, and I’d tucked the money in the catchall box I keep on the console above the dog house. It was good to have a $6 surprise.

I finished writing my list, grabbed my bag, and climbed out of the van. When I turned around to close the door, I saw more bills on the floor. I picked up three fives. My bounty of $6 had turned into a bounty of $21.

I chuckled and shook my head. The miracle wasn’t finding $21 I’d forgotten I had. The miracle was the message from the Univers advising me to stop worrying about money. I had all I needed. Money would come. I felt all  my money worries disapate, and I walked inot the supermarket with a light heart.

As many miracles are, my third miracle was born of potential disaster.

Tyre, Burst, Karoo, Flat, Road, Rubber, Car, VehicleI was on the interstate, headed home. There was a lot of tire debris on the road. Vehicles attached to tow trucks and the remains of blownout tires always make me think, There but for the grace of God go I. Tire pieces strewn about the road also trigger me to make a mental sign of the cross. I haven’t been a practicing Catholic in nearly 30 years, but I hope the mental sign of the cross will ward off evil spirits of tire destruction.

I was following a dump truck. The Man always tell me not to follow trucks too closely because they’re prone to throwing rocks. What was thrown at me wasn’t a rock and it wasn’t thrown by the dumptruck. A chunk of tire came flying from one, maybe two, lanes on my right, thrown by a car. It hit my windshild with a loud thunk, then ricocheted off to my left.

I scanned the windshield for a ding. Sure enough, I now had an imperfection in the glass, but it looked more like a chip than a ding.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I shouted while pounding my steering wheel before calming down and trying to figure out how to solve my problem. When I’d had the windshield replaced a little more than a year ago, the company I’d bought it from said they’d repair dings for free as long as I was in the county of purchase. I decided I’d stop two exits before my turn-off towards home and investigate getting the windshield repaired.

Problem #1 I didn’t know the name of the company I’d bought the windshield from.

Problem #2 I didn’t know if I’d still be inthe county of purchase when I got off the interstate.

Problem #3 My receipt for the windshipd was in an email. I didn’t have a paper copy.

Problem #4 I didn’t have my phone to access my email account.

I did have my laptop, and I decided my best option was to stop somewhere with WiFi and use my laptop to find the receipt. If I found the name and  phone number of the seller, I could call to find out if they would send a mobile unit to deterime if the problem could be fixed.

I exited the interstate and headed to a supermarket I knew offered free WiFi. I turned too soon and ended up in the wrong parking lot. I decided to stop there and assess the situation. I pulled into a parking spot and hopped out of the van. From the outside, what had looked like a chip from the inside looked more like paper stuck to the glass. I reached up and–miracle #3–wiped my problem away.

I hopped back in my van, disaster averted, and continued on my way.

I need a miracle every day, but that Monday morning, I was blessed with three.

 

Images courtesy of https://pixabay.com/en/postbox-british-red-monday-post-15502/https://pixabay.com/en/coins-currency-investment-insurance-1523383/, and https://pixabay.com/en/tyre-burst-karoo-flat-road-rubber-1614265/,

About Blaize Sun

My name is Blaize Sun. Maybe that's the name my family gave me; maybe it's not. In any case, that's the name I'm using here and now. I've been a rubber tramp for nearly a decade.I like to see places I've never seen before, and I like to visit the places I love again and again. For most of my years on the road, my primary residence was my van. For almost half of the time I was a van dweller, I was going it alone. Now my (male) partner and I (a woman) have a travel trailer we can pull with our truck. We have a little piece of property, and when we're not traveling, we park our little camper there. I was a work camper in a remote National Forest recreation area on a mountain for four seasons. I was a camp host and parking lot attendant for two seasons and wrote a book about my experiences called Confessions of a Work Camper: Tales from the Woods. During the last two seasons as a work camper on that mountain, I was a clerk in a campground store. I'm also a house and pet sitter, and I pick up odd jobs when I can. I'm primarily a writer, but I also create beautiful little collages; hand make hemp jewelry and warm, colorful winter hats; and use my creative and artistic skills to decorate my life and brighten the lives of others. My goal (for my writing and my life) is to be real. I don't like fake, and I don't want to share fake. I want to share my authentic thoughts and feelings. I want to give others space and permission to share their authentic selves. Sometimes I think the best way to support others is to leave them alone and allow them to be. I am more than just a rubber tramp artist. I'm fat. I'm funny. I'm flawed. I try to be kind. I'm often grouchy. I am awed by the stars in the dark desert night. I hope my writing moves people. If my writing makes someone laugh or cry or feel angry or happy or troubled or comforted, I have done my job. If my writing makes someone think and question and try a little harder, I've done my job. If my writing opens a door for someone, changes a life, I have done my job well. I hope you enjoy my blog posts, my word and pictures, the work I've done to express myself in a way others will understand. I hope you appreciate the time and energy I put into each post. I hope you will click the like button each time you like what you have read. I hope you will share posts with the people in your life. I hope you'll leave a comment and share your authentic self with me and this blog's other readers. Thank you for reading.  A writer without readers is very sad indeed.

One Response »

  1. My grandmother used to say to my mother, and my mother used to say to me: “Never worry about money, Dear; it will always come from somewhere.” You have proved their theory. Stressing about money doesn’t make more of it happen, though doing something to make it happen often does.

I'd love to know what you think. Please leave a reply