I love Saturday mornings. They make me happy. This last Saturday, my husband and I stayed at our son’s house. I was the first to rise, see the sun peek quietly in the sky, and listen to the birds greet the new day. The morning was peaceful and serene. As I sipped on my cup of Earl Gray, I started thinking about other Saturday mornings I had loved. One such morning, just this last fall, entered my mind.
My husband and I began that morning with a cup of tea. A quiet breakfast. And small talk.
We drove to the local soccer field, walked across the dewy grass, smelled the autumn leaves that filled the crisp air. We watched our grandson play a soccer game and score two goals (I have to get my bragging rights in there somewhere).
Before we drove out of the parking lot, our son and daughter-in-law asked us to stop by. As we were about to leave, their car died. We brought our vehicles as close together as we could, stretching the battery cable across the truck that sat in front of our son’s car. Try as we might, we couldn’t get the cable to reach. Sometimes, I don’t think things are meant to work out the first time. And this is why, the owner of the truck came over and pulled out a really, really long cable. We were so thankful, and he was so proud. Maybe it was what he needed that day – to know he was needed.
None of this seems like a big deal, going to a soccer game, a dead car battery, or stopping at a family member’s home. But my husband and I had a lot planned for the day. It was a typical Saturday filled with chores and errands, and an empty refrigerator that needed to be filled. Add to that the fact that we were anxious to pick up landscaping rocks for our backyard, and our day was planned, and busy.
But we went to our son’s house, we chatted, watched the grandchildren rake yellow and orange leaves across the wet lawn, and drank fresh homemade eggnog. And not once did I think of anything but what I was doing.
I think that may have been a first for me.
We managed to do our errands, pick up groceries, go to the landscaping site, and even slip home in the middle of it for lunch and a nap. Not all the chores were completed, but the important things were done, and that’s all that mattered.
I wonder what would have happened that day if our attitudes had not been so accepting – if we had said no to stopping by a son’s house, to eggnog, or a soccer game. I wonder what our day would have been if we had rushed and panicked, or gulped down juice and coffee for breakfast. I wonder if we would have missed out on the blessings of seeing a man help our son’s car get started, of seeing our grandson score two goals, or tasting homemade eggnog. I’m glad I will never know.
To think it all began with a cup of tea.