Tears and Baby Steps

Yesterday I picked up a van load of teenage girls and took them to our house. This is kind of a normal thing, as I am a bit of a "neighborhood mom" of sorts. I will pretty much take in anyone's kid at any time, as needed, especially if it means keeping them from being home alone after school! One of them is a "regular". Her mom is a single mom and they live in another town. She brings her daughter to our school, feeling it was the best choice for her, and it has worked out great. We offered to take her to school in the morning and she hangs out here after school until her mom gets out of work. It has been a blessing for all involved. We now love her like one of our own and she calls us her second family. 

Yesterday I noticed one of my daughters had disappeared with one of my borrowed teens. I soon discovered the borrowed teen was in tears after a disturbing phone call. My daughter did her best to console her, but also had to leave for a class, so I felt terrible having to leave her at such a bad time. 

Fortunately, my other daughter was making French fries and doing homework and took over the consoling. Tag-teaming tears, I suppose. I left to drive my girl to class in my old cotton pants, even older sweatshirt, the slides I wear to take the dog outside, and my hair in a bit of a mess. That will be significant in a moment. 

As my daughter and I talked on the way to town about the reason for the tears, my heart sank. I won't give the reason here, but it moved me to do something I haven't done since March. Since seizures. Since medication. Since panic attacks and the ER visit that led to more anxiety...not since then have I gone anywhere alone. (Except for school)

I started to drive the 10 minute drive back home and I pulled off to call home. My daughter answered and I asked, "is she still there?" Yes, she was. I continued my drive, and as I did, I counted the change in my wallet, and in the door of my van. I never carry cash! I had just enough for what I needed. As I approached the little country store near my house, with the needed item in mind, a thought occurred to me. I haven't done this. My heart fluttered. My mind tried to talk me out of it. Anxiety threatened. You can't go in there! I shook it off. Yes, I'm going in there. With my crappy clothes, my messy hair, my weird shoes, my $2 in quarters. I'm going in there. And I'm going to buy my sad borrowed daughter her favorite thing- a Mountain Dew. 

And I did. I shuffled in there, because it's very hard to walk confidently in those slidey shoes, I walked the full length of the creaky wood floor. I opened the cooler, grabbed her drink, made small talk with the nice clerk lady, and left. Success!! 

The best part was when I walked into the house and saw her helping my daughter with her homework, eyes all red from crying, but that smile when I put the pop in front of her. I didn't say anything. She put her hand to her heart and just said, "aww, thank you". 

When her mom came to pick her up later, she clearly felt bad about what had happened. She was stuck at a doctor's visit and couldn't leave at that time, and It was just a private family matter, so all I said to her was that we love her daughter, she's part of our family, and that I got her a Mountain Dew. She got the biggest smile, and said, "oh! That is her favorite! Thank you so much!" 

No. Thank you. Because those tears, though I am sorry for their reason, made me do something big. And because of that I put some cash in my wallet in case I want to venture out a little farther next time. Baby steps. Baby steps that allow me to help others. 

Praise God.