the grace story continued…

Yesterday I wrote about grace.

Today I got the rest of the story
(or at least more of the story…).

Yesterday, I drove a friend and her son
to the bus station through horrific traffic
to a city an hour away.

She’s a single mom making it work
raising a sweet boy whose giggles
make me laugh right out loud.

She moved here,
almost 4 hours from home,
to find a job,
to have funds,
to make life work.

It’s hard.

At first,
no job,
no home,
no prospects of either.

Yet, she kept the faith.

She found an apartment.
She found a job she can walk to.
She enrolled him in a school he can walk to.
She’s working while he is in school,
while he’s not, she found quality child care.

She’s incredible like that.

So, she saved her money
and bought bus tickets to go home for Easter.

She asked me for a ride to the bus station.

And, yesterday, the bus pulled out two minutes early.

We missed the bus.

I could have cried.

He did.

She simply said, “We can come back tomorrow.”

Today, I looked at this strong woman
sitting next to me as we drove back to the city.

“I want to thank you for being so kind to me yesterday,”
I said catching her eye. “You could have been angry
at me for missing the bus. Instead, you gave me grace.
Thank you.”

She smiled and said, “You’re welcome.”
Grace again.

This story about grace ended with grace
because all truly is grace, my friends.

(this sweet thing balanced that pizza box on his lap and had his lunch in my backseat!)

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