Thought Wheel

From the mind of Ann Chiappetta

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It’s Christmas Eve and I’m home after a full day’s work, although it wasn’t a taxing endeavor. Answering the phone and doing a little paperwork made a light day of it. In fact, the entire day has been dragging along, first with the damp, warm, unseasonal weather, the quiet streets, and now the quiet house (except when the dogs bark, that is).

 

I just ordered and brought in the Chinese food. When I gave the delivery guy a $20 tip, saying,

“This is for you, Merry Christmas,” and showed him the bill, he said,

“For real?”

I nodded, “Yes,” and gave it to him.

His gratitude was just the most heartfelt and beautiful thing I think I’ve heard from a stranger in a long time and it makes me feel so good inside.

 

Earlier today, I curbed Bailey in the street outside my office and didn’t pick it up, knowing it is dangerous to bend over at dusk to do so. Some woman was walking past and I heard her say,

“Will you look at that, she’s notpicking it up,”

I’m not sure why, but it annoyed me. I said,

“I’m not picking it up because I’m blind and it’s dangerous for me. Besides, if it’s in the street, the law here says I don’t have to because I’m blind.”

She just strolled past and said nothing. At first, I felt guilty, then angry. I mean, people litter, spit, and do some gross things in this city. Here I am, trying to keep my dog’s waste of the sidewalk where I’m advised to go and here comes a critic.

 

I irritably chewed on it until I got home.

 

When I gave the delivery guy the big tip, my anger at this woman dissolved. I paid it forward and once I came back inside and put down the food, I thought of how proud my Mom would have been and I started to cry. I miss her so very much, wish she was still here, and next time someone like that stranger gets to me, I will remember that a little poo in the street does not matter in the big scheme of things. I think Mom would get a wry chuckle from it, and that’s what I’m going to accept. I love and miss you, Mary.

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