We woke up earlier than usual. Had coffee with a side of cold breeze on the balcony.
Conrad went to work on the preservation of a castle with a team of university professors and landscape artists. He got sunburnt. Came home a couple of hours earlier due to torrential rain. Everyone is gone. The summer holiday has begun in earnest.
I went swimming with Jackie. The we went food shopping at two different stores. I was getting pretty hungry. But this was nothing compared to how frazzled and stretched I had gotten these past two months. As the torrential rain caught up with us, we went to take the groceries to the car and returned to shop for stretch pants for Jackie. This morning she got a road rash on her scooter, and ripped some of her last good pants in the knees.
As I was getting ready to pay for Jackie’s pants, I realized my credit card was missing. It took me a few seconds to remeber where I last saw and used it. In the fast checkout at the grocery store. I put the pants high on a shelf and ran across the path to the grocery store. The security guy was nowhere to be found. For one very long minute. I eventually asked if I could go back and search for my card in a machine. He asked me if I was [my full name]. Then he said to rush to the information desk. It’s not good. More than 20 minutes had gone by since I checked out. At the information desk a family was trying to figure out what to do. My card had paid for their groceries of $100. They wanted to give me cash and were confused how did it happen. The police guy checked my ID, gave me my card, the family paid for their groceries and I couldn’t believe I got my Visa card back. I felt pretty foolish too. This has never happened to me. The machine beeps loud to retrieve my card. But we had our hands full, and Jackie wanted to scan the receipt at the exit, and the torrential rain had started…
At home I discovered that 5 more people checked-out their groceries on my card. A little over $100 worth. I bet we made their day. I did some research about disputing the charges. This kind of money go a long way in Romania. But it was my fault I left the card there. It was not stolen. The number was safe.
I talked to Conrad about it. And he said the sweetest thing. “Well, count this as the many times I’ve wanted to pay for the groceries of the person before or after us in line. Just to be kind. I’m sure we made a few people’s day.”
I think we are called to be generous. Giving freely alters our DNA, it makes us happier. How much better it would feel to do it voluntary, before we are forced to it. To race with God into generosity of the mind, of the heart and wallet.