Christmas Road Trip (Part 4)

I thank those who have taken the time to read this year’s Christmas story. You can find the rest of the story at this link.

---

     Tomorrow would be our last travel day. As we drove through Georgia, I turned to check on everyone in the backseat. I had to admit that the trip had gone far better than I had ever imagined. Aunt Hattie had been an incredible blessing, helping to entertain the boys, while also meeting their endless requests for drinks and snacks. In between caring for the boys, she had shared many of her life stories.
     Her father had been an angry alcoholic who couldn’t keep a job, leaving her mama to cope alone with providing for both the physical and emotional needs of her five children. She took in laundry and all the kids pitched in to help as they got older. Aunt Hattie shared how she had learned from a very young age how to scrub out stains and of all the tricks to keeping laundry bright and clean. If not for the charity of their church family they wouldn’t have survived.
     “My mama was the sweetest, most loving and humble person you could ever meet. I guess she would be your great-grandmother, Allie. I am sorry you never got to meet her. She read to us from the Bible every night and told us to live by that Book. But she also told me and my brothers and sister that that Book said we can never be good enough to be right with God. That this is why Jesus came as a baby to earth. To make a way for us to be right with God. Oh, I am so thankful she told me about Jesus and that He died on the cross for me! I am also so very thankful that she showed me that truly believing in Jesus yields a life that lives for Jesus. My mama was such a wonderful example of a fine Christian lady. How I thank God for giving me my precious mama,” tears had welled up in Aunt Hattie’s eyes as she had remembered.
     She also shared memories from her life as an adult. I had had no idea that she had lost three babies, twin sons and a daughter, almost full-term before never getting pregnant again. She shared openly of the deep pain that she and Uncle Harold had endured when they realized that they would never have a family and of God’s abundant and tender mercies during that trial. She also told us of Uncle Harold’s first business failure and of how, that Christmas so long ago, they had no idea where they would get money for any food, much less gifts. And, here, she shared of God’s faithfulness to her and Harold as they faced this difficult time. She spoke so fondly of her late husband and I could see she still missed him so very much.
     All along the way of our trip she had handed out hundreds of dollars’ worth of Amazon and restaurant gift cards. Aunt Hattie was one of those people who had a way of drawing others out and within a few minutes she would hear of a trial or need that they had. For various reasons, she had given cards to our kind Cracker Barrel waitress; to the teen-aged girl taking our order at Panera; to the frustrated older man in the McDonald’s drive-through window; to the friendly clerk and quiet maid at our hotel; and even to a discouraged single mom at a rest stop. And she’d always say the same thing as she climbed in the car: It just seemed to me that they could use a bit of “day brightening” and then she’d give a big smile. Somewhere in Virginia, I had asked how she decided what cards to get and who to give them to.
     “Well, dear, I just try to buy cards that just about anybody can use. Now, that being said, of course I do not give a Texas Roadhouse card to someone living out in the boondocks,” she chuckled. Mike and I smiled at her use of the old-fashioned word.
     She went on, “And I just try to be perceptive where there is a need for someone to know they are appreciated and loved. I want to make people feel like someone cares as they go through life. When I was about ten…”
     She went on to tell of Miss Sadie, her childhood Sunday School teacher, who had made her feel so special and loved at a very difficult time.
     “Miss Sadie has inspired me for my whole life. Isn’t it simply amazing how we can plant seeds of love and kindness in the hearts of young children that will be life-changing? Of course, we can also plant seeds of mistrust and bitterness so we need to be extra careful,” with these words she put a hand on each of the boys’ heads and tousled their hair, giving them loving smiles.
     “Anyway, your Uncle Harold left me gobs of money because as you may know, his second business venture was extremely successful, thanks be to the Lord, and so I just want to bless others with what the Lord has given me. After all, it’s His money, not mine. I just want to be a good steward.”
     I have to admit that I had no idea that Aunt Hattie had “gobs of money”. Uncle Harold had died when I was three and I really had never asked Aunt Hattie anything about him. I pondered on the “gobs of money” for at least the next ten miles. Aunt Hattie lived very simply. While her house was very nice, it was simple and small. Aunt Hattie didn’t spend a lot of money on herself and, in fact, often bragged about her latest find at the thrift store, the long purple coat she was wearing being one of them.
     Later on, in the hotel that night, I thought of Aunt Hattie and all I had thought I had known about her and then compared it to all I had learned about her on this road trip. I felt ashamed. In my self-centered way, I had tried to be kind to her but I realized now that I had been a bit patronizing and distant with her at our family gatherings. To my chagrin, I had written this dear aunt off as just another “old lady”, never even considering all the people and events that had made her who she was.
     “I just can’t believe all we’ve been learning about your aunt,” Mike said as he pulled back the covers of the hotel bed.
     “I was just thinking that same thing,” I admitted.
     Mike looked serious, “have you ever considered how much we don’t know about the elderly people in our lives? We get so caught up in our own lives. I feel like I’ve been missing out on so much.”
     “I feel the exact same way,” I said.
     As I lay there in bed a few minutes later, I asked the Lord to help me to be kinder and more caring to anyone He brought my way. I wanted to be like Aunt Hattie.

---

     The next day, we had breakfast at Cracker Barrel and then headed out. We had only about six more hours of driving and then we would arrive at my parents’ house. My heart was filled with elated joy as I anticipated the reunion with them and with my siblings and their families.
     Aunt Hattie was unusually quiet on this day. I didn’t think too terribly much about it, as I am sure a trip like this one would make any 80-something year old especially tired. I was much younger and I felt exhausted.
     But about three hours into our trip, I heard the boys soberly say “mom” in unison. I was looking for a new audio story for them to listen to on my phone and so I ignored them at first. But their insistence that I pay attention quickly turned into shouts, “Something is wrong with Aunt Hattie!”
     I turned around to see a very pale Aunt Hattie struggling to breathe. My heart started beating faster than perhaps it ever had. Aunt Hattie needed help right now but we were on a highway somewhere in the middle of unfamiliar Georgia. What in the world were we going to do?