The help of a stranger
I’m currently sitting on the floor eating oreo cookies in a dark, dark, hotel conference room. It’s dark because Emma is sleeping, and we don’t want to wake Phoebe who is sleeping upstairs in our hotel room. I’m eating oreo cookies because I had to use the atm at the local gas station so that I could insert four quarters into the hotel dryer. We have the next sixty minutes to sit in the dark silence before our laundry is complete.
We’re currently in North Carolina but have been on the road for a week with the littles. We’re in the thick of it, and I am so tired. I had hoped to leave some really good advice about travel on this blog post, but my energy is seriously waning to pound out those best 1-2-3 travel tips just yet. It may require some time of reflection to get to that point. There are good days, and there are bad days. There are days when I am focused on routine and schedules and days that I just let everything loose.
I’ve had some fun pretending that a beautiful suburbia life is what we have always had. And Phoebe seems to enjoy it too. The other day when we returned to our Airbnb she happily proclaimed, “this my house.” I think what Phoebe likes the best though is going outside on adventures – whether visiting the local parks or grocery store – she’s content to sit in that stroller and be pushed somewhere new. It’s “peak week” here where the leaves are at their ultimate best before they begin their annual fall. So I don’t blame Phoebe for always wanting to go outside.
Today we visited a local confectionary shop for kids. The cutest little outfits and cutest toys. Little dollhouse mice that have beds and a dollhouse-like home – some of them even had a miniature camping set up. Oh, my heart jumped. How much for the miniature bed? I asked. $36.00 the cashier said. No thank you. I replied. And promptly told Phoebe how we can say, “Oh that is so nice” and walk away.
Perhaps what has been the most touching thing of all is the way that complete strangers have offered to help me along the way. I used to turn such help away, but with my hands full with a crying toddler, I’ve learned to say – why “yes, you can help, thank you.” And then they ask how – to which my mind must turn quickly to think through the most effective way. And it works out. It all works out. The kids get fed, their diapers get changed, and they get in the car. These strangers have given me a taste of peace in the chaos of change. I am so grateful for the compassion and helping hands. For the joy they give when taking time to enter our day, and the free smiles and adoration for these precious littles. I hope that I can do the same someday.