Tag Archives: Thankful

The People That You Meet Traveling

Posted on by
Reply

 

We’ve all had nightmare travel experiences, right?  Ours started on December 25th when our American Airlines flight landed in Dallas to the sight of snowflakes dropping from a low, gray sky.  Great piloting!  Kevin, our jolly Flight Attendant who had the best of humor even when one lavatory became inoperable and everyone chose that moment to have to go and when one mom set a really bad example for her kids, serenaded us with White Christmas as we waited 45 minutes on the tarmac for a gate to be made available to us.  The flight crew were positive and upbeat through it all, giving us no indication that we had landed into a mess, but when we left the plane and joined the zillion people already running around like crazy we started to get the idea that something just wasn’t going well.

We landed in terminal A but our connection to Montgomery which was scheduled to leave in about 20 minutes was in terminal B.  We raced with the crowd to the Sky Link but an airport employee blocked us from getting on and said it was now closed, shut down.  Everyone started asking the same question – how do we find terminal B?  C?  D?  No one seemed to know and as airport employees walked by we would ask and be ignored.  We finally joined the group that wanted terminal B and began the race that led to Hannah falling going up on the escalator, gashing her knee and ripping her jeans. When we finally found our gate we discovered others looking harassed and waiting including what we assumed would be our flight crew who talked openly about their doubts of this flight going out.  The departure board was showing CANCELLED on many flights already and after three times of being told the flight was delayed, we were then told it was cancelled so we all lined up to re-book on other outgoing flights.  Confusion as to what to do was shadowed only by the frustration over the length of time it took each customer to re-book.   A pleasant young woman worked patiently with everyone until it was our turn and then a young man with a decidedly different attitude took her place.  I was told we were re-booked for the following day at 8:30 p.m., 28 hours later.  Are you serious?  After asking about flights to other destinations that would get me near where we were actually going, I settled on the flight to Birmingham leaving at 8:30 p.m. that night.  It was leaving from terminal A and Hannah’s leg was aching.   Hmm.

I requested a cart to drive us over and while waiting for a cart a young woman and her son had a bit of a meltdown when she begged someone to tell her how to get to terminal C.  There seemed to be few airport employees who would give directions and many people were wandering around looking for that information.  Eventually a nice cart driver who wasn’t going our way took pity on us and we enjoyed being driven to the yells of “Scuse!  Cart!”  “Scuse!  Cart!” to warn people to move out of the cart’s way.  We were deposited with Tanya, a wonderful employee who shared that she was spending Christmas at work because she had nothing else to do.  She was so warm and grandmotherly that we wanted to bring her home with us.  Our cart driver had taken us under his wing and called for another cart driver to get us to the right terminal and we then enjoyed his stories and yells of “Scuse! Cart!” as we finished what he said was a two mile trip.  Hannah said no wonder her legs hurt since we had just raced two miles earlier!

We joined the anxious group waiting for the Birmingham flight and the desk agent kept us informed about delays.  At about 9:30 we were told a plane was landing and we would have  exactly 20 minutes to board and take off so the crew wouldn’t go illegal and the flight cancelled.  Happy people quickly boarded, stowed baggage and buckled in, and true to their word we zipped straight up into the rain and sleet and possibly snow for a turbulent but wonderful ride to Birmingham. Another awesome job of piloting the plane!  Loved the straight up take off!  The tired flight crew who had been going at it all day remained cheerful and upbeat as they saw everyone off the plane.

It was in Birmingham that we discovered our luggage wasn’t with us and when Robin, the American Airline employee, scanned our luggage bar code it didn’t show up anywhere.  She assured us it would be found, gave us information to file a claim, and told us to check to see if it came in the next day.  We then went outside to be robbed by a taxi cab driver who charged us ten dollars to go 1/2 mile down the road to a hotel.  It was cold, wet and we were drooping with exhaustion by then so we paid and tipped him anyway…Merry Christmas.  We were thankful to not be with the thousand people who were stuck at the DFW airport.

The next morning it was decided that my mom, who had driven with my nephew to Montgomery the day before to get us and then gone back home, would come to Birmingham now to get us…a much longer drive.  To make it easier on her, we needed to get away from the airport and closer to the I-65, south side of Birmingham.  Before figuring that out, we caught a shuttle to the airport and went to check on our luggage, hoping it had come in.

We found the American Airlines ticket desk and were helped by several young men, Jeremy, Martin, and Chris, who all worked to see if our luggage was there.  It wasn’t.  They, too, assured us it would be found and said it would probably go on to Montgomery. Their cheerful attitudes and helpfulness, jokes and attempts to help us have a better day did just that even though we still felt defeated by no luggage.  We asked about transport to a Cracker Barrel Restaurant just south of Birmingham and was told it would cost about $80 by taxi, but then something truly nice happened…and we were given a ride at no charge to the Cracker Barrel!  What a huge blessing that was!  It was now about one p.m. on the 26th.

We were tired from travel, Hannah’s knee was aching, we were frustrated at having lost “vacation” time to travel delays, worried about the extra costs caused by the delays and lost luggage that couldn’t be tracked, and we hadn’t eaten since 4 p.m. the day before.  Breakfast sounded wonderful!

Our Cracker Barrel server was Ally, a charming young lady who deserves the Cracker Barrel Server of the Year Award for her courtesy, promptness, and ability to make her customers feel pretty dog-gone special.  It wasn’t just Hannah and I who were treated so well; we noticed all of Ally’s customers were treated with the same warmth and Southern hospitality.  Ally rocked!

We stopped by Montgomery airport to see if our luggage had arrived and it had!  The ladies who brought it out to us were beaming right along with us!

After arriving to our final destination, Dothan, we thought our travel worries were behind us.  Not so.  On December 31st, five minutes from the Montgomery airport where we would leave to head home, we were rear ended while waiting at a stop light by a Mercedes going full speed.  The gentleman who hit us apologized profusely and said he was watching the state trooper with blue flashing lights on the side of road beside a pulled over semi.  The ensuing accident paperwork involved a state trooper, Officer Scott, a patrolman, Officer Ross, who earned my undying gratitude by taking pity on me and giving me a ride to the McDonald’s ladies room across the street, and an accident investigator, Officer Lamb, and it all kept us from making our flight.  When we tried to re-book , Lisa in Montgomery helped us navigate the calls with Reservations but none could guarantee us a flight that would allow us to get to Phoenix on the 31st.  There was a flight to Dallas, but after that, it was going to be racing from desk to desk to see if we could get on an already overbooked flight to Phoenix.  Dreading the thought, I went to check in our luggage for the Montgomery to Dallas portion and a gentleman named Ron Davis pulled a rabbit out of his hat and booked us, guaranteed, on an 8:30 p.m. flight from Dallas to Phoenix!  We would have a 7 hour layover in Dallas, but we’d at least get home on the 31st!  How wonderful!  I told him we could just hug him and we did.

We arrived to our house with our kitties and dog waiting for us just before midnight.  Happy New Year!

The circumstances of this trip were bad…delays, gashed knee, torn jeans, lost luggage, cancellations, a dishonest taxi driver who will someday overcharge the wrong person, lost time with family, an accident, auto repairs for my mom and medical care for all of us.  The people of American Airlines however, with the exception of the one young man desk agent at Dallas who’s name was neatly hidden by a scarf, were great.  During the trying circumstances of it all, there were some memorable people who not only did their jobs well, but reached out to us.

Hannah said she wondered what God was up to with all this.  Circumstances may cause annoyance and frustration and put us in situations that are less than ideal and sometimes pretty bad, but it’s the people connection that makes the difference.  Maybe we need that reminder.  Whether its part of our normal day, an accidental meeting, or during the adventures of traveling, our encounters with people along the way make an impression.  Our smiling faces at the end of the journey are our thanks.  We endured some nuisances, but we’re safe and alive and grateful for this time God has given us and the people we met along the way.

Travel weary but thankful

What’s in a Cake?

Posted on by
Reply

Cake.  The word alone can mean so many things.  “That’s a piece of cake” means it’s easy.  Talking about someone who wants to “have their cake and eat it, too” implies greed or unfairness.  Saying something is a “cakewalk” tells you it’s an easy win…you do nothing but walk in circles, and voila, you win!  If something “takes the cake” its better than the rest.  When we “cake it on” it means we lay it on thick.  In the world of illegal drugs, a cakes refer to amount of cocaine.  

But the ones we bake, buy, or order from our favorite bakeries, have special places in our hearts, rituals, memories, taste buds, and bellies.  And these cakes in and of themselves have special meanings and evoke specific emotions.

Take the birthday cake.  Many of us grew up having homemade birthday cakes, two or three layers held together with thick spread homemade frosting.  If we were lucky, we were there to lick the bowl and no one said we couldn’t because there wasn’t a warning about raw eggs in those days.  I never met anyone who knew or heard about anyone who keeled over from licking the bowl, but once the warning went out, all bowl licking came to a screeching halt.  Sigh.  Or, you just took your chances and scraped the gooey batter out anyway because cake batter is so irresistible that a particular ice cream company actually makes cake batter flavored ice cream. 

And I know of no one whosoever who could ever resist licking the beaters after homemade frosting was whipped into its creamy heights of yumminess.  

Birthday cakes were made with the birthday person’s favorite flavors in mind and topped with candles enough to let them know they were either very young or very old.  Somewhere around the age of 21 or so the numeral candles went on and that, my friend, signified that one was too old to have more candles jammed into the frosting.  Of course, none of us had smoke alarms in our homes back then, either. 

Flavors ranged from chocolate to strawberry to vanilla and then blossomed into a smorgasboard of interesting flavors.  Peanut butter caramel white chocolate cake with dark chocolate frosting topped by roasted peanuts.  Decadent carrot cake with thick cream cheese frosting, no raisins please.  Texas sheet cake with fudge frosting and hundreds of pecan chips.  Rocky road cake with marshmallows and chocolate pieces in the cake and more in the chocolate frosting with a few drizzles of fudge for good measure.  Pristine white cake with flaked coconut frosting.  Lemon cake with tart lemon frosting and thin slices of sugared lemon twisted on top.  Deep dark chocolate cake and bright white marshmallow frosting decorated with chocolate curls.  Red velvet cake with real cream cheese frosting and pecan pieces both between the layers and on the sides.  Southern Lane cake made thick with nuts and dried fruits and drenched in bourbon whiskey or rum.  Tomato soup cake with dark and golden raisins and creamy cream cheese frosting topped with nuts.  Even a simple yellow cake with milk chocolate frosting said Happy Birthday, you are special, you are loved, and I made this especially for you.

The bakery cakes never tasted as good as mom’s or grandma’s but they were fascinating in their decor.  Little plastic figures played across the top of a sheet cake with smoothed, flat frosting.  Decorative frosting roses, tulips, and lilies danced across the edges and corners, sometimes up the sides.  Or pressed and molded sugar shapes that formed flowers, characters, words or numbers were used.  The inscription was perfection itself, written in neat, even hand and,  hopefully, the name spelled correctly.  Little plastic candle holder picks held the candles upright and left smaller holes in the cake top.  Everyone wanted to lick the plastic candle holder picks.  Everyone wanted a frosting rose, even it was made with red dye.

Somehow, a birthday just doesn’t seem like a birthday without a cake if you were raised with having a birthday cake.  No matter how many cupcakes, how many cookie “cakes”, or how many candy bars with a candle stuck in the middle come our way, they don’t scream and shout and do flips that say “It’s Your Birthday!”  Only a cake can do that.

When couples get married, one of their most important tasks is selecting the cake that symbolizes…well, everything.  It has to say romance and it has to say “them” and it has to say tradition and it has to say “unique” and it has to match the style of the dress and the theme of the reception and be all things to all people who are there at the wedding.  Oh, and it has to taste absolutely, positively divine!  This cake can have no flaws, visible or otherwise.  It can’t be crumbly and it can’t be dry and it can’t have a little smear somewhere on the cake board and that flower must be positioned at just that angle to create that affect, or it’s a….disaster.  While doing all these things, the cake has to hold the topper, that little something that best represents the newlyweds.  And no one goes home until the cake is cut, sliced, diced and passed.  Only after the cake has had its moment of glory in sealing the deal is it acceptable to leave.

Cakes mark other celebrations as well.  Baby showers, business promotions, grand openings, graduations, holidays and just about any time there is a reason to serve up something sweet to a crowd.   

 But, truly, what’s in a cake?   

The first thing we find in a cake is thought.  Somebody had to think of it, and somebody had to think it was important enough to either bake it or order it.  So not only is the cake important to the one who bakes or orders, but the one who it is for is important to them and others. 

The second thing we find in a cake is familiarity.  Knowledge of the recipient’s likes and dislikes along with the reason behind the cake being needed in the first place says somebody pays attention and that’s significant. 

 The third thing we find in a cake is opportunity to share.  Very few people toss a cake at someone and say “Here’s your cake…see ya!”  Oh, no, no.  The little plates come out along with plastic forks and tiny napkins.  Someone produces a knife and within seconds people gather as if a gong has sounded that calls them to gather around the cake.  Dieters can’t resist “just a little sliver”.  Young and old and in between want to partake of both the cake and the sharing of good wishes.

The fourth thing in the cake is joy.  It doesn’t matter if it tastes like cardboard with a little sugar sprinkled on top, everyone eating a piece of cake seems happy.  Stories, jokes, chit-chat and trivia mingle with laughter and smiles.  There’s just something about enjoying cake with others that brings out the best, even its only until the last crumb is consumed.

Finally, memories of the moments that shape our lives are found in cakes.  Many are captured in snapshots or videos, some zoom around the earth thanks to iPhones and Facebook before the last piece is served.  Cakes mark that time, that place, that event, those people, those feelings, those sights, those sounds, those smells, and that taste.  The next time that kind of cake comes your way, your mind does a little happy dance of remembering. 

A cake is more than its ingredients, more than its flavors, more than the decorations and more than the inscriptions or candles.  It’s love with frosting and sprinkles.  And when you get one, remember it isn’t a gift, but it says you are.  And that is pretty sweet.

Reflections of Thankfulness

Posted on by
6

I am thankful for family.  The loss of our loved ones are still so keenly felt despite the time that has passed.  We have learned through the years to live with our grief…we are never without it. 

I am thankful for food in my pantry to feed my family and others.  I will never forget being a hungry child, one who grew adept at begging, swiping, and hiding food to take home to my mother and sister.  I will never forget the goodness of the man who allowed my sister and I to sneakily rummage his own pantry and refrigerator, and never mention the food that was missing.  The food moved from the highest cupboards over the counters to the lowest ones within our reach.  The things we loved magically appeared again and again without a word being spoken.  Bob became our hero and our ministering angel.  Later, he became our dad.

I am thankful that my memory of Bob remains untarnished and pure.  He loved us as if we were his own daughters, and in my heart, and I think his, too, we were. 

I am thankful to have a job that allows me to make a house payment, pay for electricity, water, gasoline, groceries, and necessary items.  Though my husband was laid off in March 2009, God has been faithful in His provision.  I am thankful we still have our home amidst so many foreclosures.  There but for the grace of God…. 

I am thankful that Mike has the gifts and talents to work with his hands and do such a wonderful job for his clients from rebuilding block walls to creating entirely new bathrooms or kitchens.  His clients love him and I know why.  You should see my kitchen backsplash!

I am thankful for those I work with, their dedication to the success of our students, their committment to helping others and each other succeed.  I am thankful that, through work, I have the privilege of meeting people who become dear.

I am thankful that my job allows us to have health insurance coverage for my family. 

I am thankful for the privilege of being a mother.  There was a time when I knew the sorrow and heartache of not being able to conceive.   The Lord gave us Aaron, an eighteen month old child who became our Sunshine.  Five years later, He allowed me the joy of giving birth to Sam, my heartbeat.  Four years after that as we contemplated another adoption, He gave me Hannah, my heart’s desire.  I am richly blessed to know the joy of motherhood.

I am thankful that Aaron knows he is loved.  This twenty-three year old will bend down low and let me kiss the side of his neck or lean against me as I tell him he is loved.  For all the heartaches of having am adult son with mental illness, there are quick moments of contentment, like knowing that a package of American cheese slices brings a smile to his otherwise immobile, set face.   Or that this year, after decorating the Christmas tree, he asked us to take his picture beside it, and then proceeded to ask us to take six more photos of himself beside the tree in six different changes of clothing.  And he trusts that we will not laugh, we will not make fun of him, and we will not say no.  He knows he is loved just as he is.  There is safety for him in our love.  Despite the extra effort, and the annoyances and the worry, we are blessed to call him ours.

I am thankful that Sam is returning to Greenway High School because he wants to be a Marine, though my heart weeps at the dangers ahead.  He wants to serve his country, following the footsteps of all three of his grandfathers.   Where is the little boy who wanted me to teach him how to make cookies so that one day, when he married, he could teach is wife?  Where is the little boy who collected socks for the men’s shelter because he worried that their feet may be cold?  Where is the little boy who prayed earnestly for the policemen and military and firefighters to come home safe to their children at night?  Where is the little boy who begged for catfood to feed a stray in the woods behind the hotel where we stayed?   My little boy is a young man now, soon to be a warrior.  I pray for my warrior to have the same strong faith in God as David when he meets his own “Goliath” .  I pray for his protection, and more importantly, his heart.  He is on the road to becoming a “good man”.  I pray for him to also become a “godly man”.

I am thankful for my thirteen year old daughter, Hannah.  I recall the angst of those years, trapped in a changing body with multiple personalities, an opinion about everything, and turbulent emotions that overflow without warning.  We have no idea who will greet us in the morning – our adorable princess or the witch of the west?  Desipte all this, she is smart, witty, and creative.  Her growing beauty is much more than skin deep and her heart, when she allows us a peek, is tender.  She champions the underdog, literally, in adopting a misbegotten mutt who howls by night and shreds trash by day.  Stubborn, strong-willed (Hannah AND the dog), she is blossoming into a young woman with solid values and high expectations for herself and her future.  And every day I look at her and see the sister I miss with all my heart.  I see the same set of her jaw that says I WILL SUCCEED.  I see the same rolling eyes that say OH BROTHER!  I see the thought that goes into everything she does and her absolute desire to do well, to exceed standards set by others.  Rosie would be as proud of our Hannah as we are, seeing herself in the academic achievements, the gestures, the quick wit, the compassion, the observation of etiquette, and the quest for that classic look in fashion. 

I am thankful that my husband is here, as my husband, as the father of our children.  Thirty plus years has created a comfortable familiarity and predictability.  I’m not always easy to be with; neither is he!  We are at opposite ends of the “maintenance” spectrum – he is low, I’m high.   Somehow, though, we meet in the middle, reaching and juggling and balancing, giving, taking, offering, compromising, forgiving.  By God’s grace, it works.  By God’s grace, it will continue to work. 

I am thankful that I have a mother who, though we both feel a third of us is missing since the death of Rosie, she is my “other” third.  Since July 8th, 2001, when Rosie passed from this world to God’s arms, we have talked every day either in person or by phone.  That is a gift.  I’m sure I drive her as nutsy as she sometimes drives me, but despite that, she completes who I am.  My mother is my confidante, my cheerleader, my shoulder to cry on, and my co-conspirator.  She will be in Arizona soon.  Garage sales, beware! 

I am thankful for my email relationship with my father.  For the past fifteen years we have used the email to create and build the relationship lost when my parents divorced almost forty years ago.  Through email, we have said things we cannot say in person.  Through email, we have shared laughs, sorrows, jokes, wisdom, and the day to day activities that each of us has missed.  Through email, we have become father and daughter.  This is another gift.

I am thankful that my husband’s family accepts me as one of their own.  I am thankful for my mother in law, Pat, who taught me to make pie dough, taught me to listen, taught me to craft, and taught me that I actually could bear impossible things in my life.  She is missed greatly by all. 

I am thankful for the furry creatures in my life (and if you are not a cat or pet lover, just don’t read this paragraph – it won’t make a bit of sense to you!)  I said goodbye to my dearest friend in the world this year, my Peach, an eighteen year old Maine Coon cat that came into my life after the relinquishment of an adoptive child and during my pregnancy with Sam.  She/He (the first vet said Female, the one who neutered said Male, but the “she” stuck) captured my heart to the point that I broke the law and smuggled her, as a kitten, under my shirt onto an airplane.  She was my focal point for giving birth.  She awakened me with urgent meows and led me to Sam’s baby crib where he was struggling to breathe and, if it were not for her, may have died at six weeks old with RSV since he spent two weeks in the hospital with the hospital chaplain visiting me daily to make burial plans.  She awakened me again when an electrical socket had caused a fire and the kitchen had filled with smoke.  She stayed with Rosie when, at my home after being released from the hospital months after an open heart surgery, Rosie’s lungs were filling with fluid and causing her labored breathing.  Rosie told me Peach helped her breathe through the fear.  She curled in my arms whenever I cried, placed her large paws on my head when I suffered migraines, and listened without condemnation to every rant and rave and sorrow I ever had.  In my mind, Peach was a precious gift from God, an angel-kitty, and I miss her with all my heart.  (And no, one cat is not the same as another!)

I am thankful that I have friends who, despite the desert times, the times when we do no more than think about one another, love me and accept me and are there for me.  They minister to my heart and soul with their gift of friendship.  I need them more than they need me and I am eternally grateful for their friendship. 

I am thankful to have known the loveliest of women, Kim Schmidt, before she went home suddenly to be with the Lord.  Words can never describe Kim – Kim had to be experienced.  Tornado, spitfire, heart of gold, champion of babies, dancing queen, precious wife and mother, and Queen of Giggles.  It is my joy that I spent time on earth with this beautiful woman of God.  I pray for her family often.

I am thankful that at this time, we live a country where we can freely share our faith and gather to worship.  I pray we will always have this privilege. 

I am thankful for the men and women who offer their lives for us, for our freedoms; for their families who support them; for the vision of something bigger than I can’t always see; for the courage to face what we most fear.

I am thankful for those of you who really know me, those who think you know me, or just share a little part of your world with mine.  This life is not easy, as we all know, but there is joy to be found if we just look for it. 

May 2010 be a blessed year…one that fulfills God’s plan for each of us, one that opens doors and windows and escape hatches, one that provides for our needs and allows laughter to be freely shared, hearts to be warmed, and everyone to enjoy an Aaron-style American cheese slice smile. 

“For I know the plans I have for you”, declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”  Jeremiah 29:11

Blessings,

Patti Zint