{Sundays Story....and My baby is EIGHT!!!..}

Hero at the Grocery Store

by Stephenie Meyer

ensign 2006

{thanks shelley, she had this on her blog and reminded me how much I loved it.}

Christmas stories happen in the most everyday places. I was part of one not long ago at the grocery store. I hope I never forget it, though the memory is bittersweet.

I had been shopping for almost an hour by the time I got to the checkout lines. My two youngest sons were with me, the four-year-old refusing to hold onto the cart, the two-year-old trying to climb out of the basket and jump down to play with his brother.

Both got progressively whinier and louder as I tried to keep them under control, so I was looking for the fastest lane possible. I had two choices. In the first line were three customers, and they all had just a few purchases. In the second line was only one man, a harried young father with his own crying baby, but his cart was overflowing with groceries.

I quickly looked over the three-person line again. The woman in the front was very elderly, white haired and rail thin, and her hands were shaking as she tried unsuccessfully to unlatch her big purse. In the other line, the young father was throwing his food onto the conveyor belt with superhuman speed. I got in line behind him.

It was the right choice. I was able to start unloading my groceries before the elderly woman was even finished paying. My four-year-old was pulling candy from the shelf, and my little one was trying to help by lobbing cans of soup at me. I felt I couldn’t get out of the store fast enough.And then, over the sound of the store’s cheery holiday music, I heard the checker in the other line talking loudly, too loudly. I glanced over as my hands kept working.“No, I’m sorry,” the checker was almost shouting at the old woman, who didn’t seem to understand. “That card won’t work. You are past your limit. Do you have another way to pay?” The tiny old woman blinked at the checker with a confused expression. Not only were her hands shaking now, but her shoulders too. The teenage bagger rolled her eyes and sighed.

As I caught a soup can just before it hit my face, I thought to myself: “Boy, did I choose the right line! Those three are going to be there forever.” My mood was positively smug as my checker began scanning my food. But the smiling woman directly in line behind the elderly lady had a different reaction. Quietly, with no fanfare, she moved to the older woman’s side and ran her own credit card through the reader.“Merry Christmas,” she said softly, still smiling. And then everyone was quiet. Even my rowdy children paused, feeling the change in the atmosphere.It took a minute for the older woman to understand what had happened.

The checker, her face thoughtful, hesitated with the receipt in her hand, not sure whom to give it to. The smiling woman took it and tucked it into the elderly woman’s bag.“I can’t accept …” the older woman began to protest, with tears forming in her eyes.The smiling woman interrupted her. “I can afford to do it. What I can’t afford is not to do it.”“Let me help you out,” the suddenly respectful bagger insisted, taking the basket and also taking the old woman’s arm, the way she might have helped her own grandmother.

I watched the checker in my line pause before she pressed the total key to dab at the corner of her eyes with a tissue. Paying for my groceries and gathering my children, I made it out of the store before the smiling woman. I had made the right choice of lanes, it seemed. But as I walked out into the bright December sunshine, I was not thinking about my luck but about what I could not afford.

I could not afford my current, self-absorbed frame of mind.

I could not afford to have my children learn lessons of compassion only from strangers.

I could not afford to be so distant from the spirit of Christ at any time of the year—

especially during this great season of giving. I could not afford to let another stranger, another brother or sister, cross my path in need of help without doing something about it. And that is why I hope never to forget the Christmas hero in the grocery store.

The next time I have a chance to be that kind of a hero, I can’t afford to miss it.
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Christmas truly is about
Love.
It is about a love that is both joyfully shared and unconditional. It is about a love that sacrifices, cares, and gives.
It is about loving each other just as much as God loves us at Christmastime and always. ~ Joseph J. Mazzella ~

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Its K's birthday today

WOW!! I have an 8 year old!! How did that happen...

8 things about my boy..

1. he is such a big help to me always asking what he can do and he loves his brothers and sister

2. he loves to learn and loves school, and can be found reading his scriptures at breakfast sometimes... he is an example to me!
3. he makes friends easier then anybody I know where ever we go and has always been known by adults as one who is like a little adult and talks to them
4. he loves pepperoni pizza and ceaser salad and pretty much any Mexican food
5. he is an awesome drawer and story writer he loves it and is always drawing
6. he hates it when L and M wake him up every morning
7. he loves watching movies as a family and loves to play games

8. He is looking forward to be baptized this week and loves everything about life in general he likes to be busy and makes good choices for the most part.

I am so proud of him and proud to be his mother. I feel so blessed to have him as my son. He holds a special place in our hearts,
our long awaited baby
that came 5 days before Christmas.
the greatest gift

8 years ago.
Happy Birthday Babe

HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A GREAT WEEK !!!!