A long, long time ago, I was at my doctor’s office, and a wild woman walked in. She waved her crutches and said “I want to donate these.” The Office Manager said, “We can’t accept used equipment.”
The wild woman was very upset, and verily did she shake her crutches: “I want to donate my crutches! I don’t want anyone to make a profit off them! Who will take my crutches?”
Not one to keep my mouth shut, i said, “Why not take them to Goodwill?” And wild woman retorted, “But then they will be sold!”
After she ranted a bit and begged the doctor’s office to take her crutches, i intervened again: “I know of a hospice place that I can donate your crutches, may I take them for you?” She was relieved and wild woman became happy woman, and I had a pair of crutches.
In truth insidiously did I want to take them to Goodwill as the hospice place was far away from me. But I never did. For a year the crutches have been in the trunk of our car, much to the chagrin of my precious husband.
Here’s an odd little aside: the crutches were exactly my size, so I always wondered if maybe… maybe one day they could be quite handy.
The wild woman was my grace today.
Walking out of the bookstore, I managed to trip over the curb and fall and hurt myself very bad. I wrenched my left ankle, landed on my right knee, skinned my right palm, and banged the right side of my head. I screamed and howled and writhed on the ground while Matthew tried to do damage control. A kindly stranger even came to help.
I am stubborn when hurt, and all I want to do is get upright again because I swear it only feels worse to roll on the ground, despite your inability to move.
And what was in the trunk? Crutches.
Between my stubbornness, Matthew’s aid, and the “donated” crutches, I was up and into the car. Now I’m hobbling around awkwardly, and settled into the couch with ice.
Hey wild woman! Thanks.