I am always astonished at how fast December goes. And here we are at the weekend before Christmas and the day for the final installment of this year’s Christmas story already! If you have taken the time to read it, I thank you. I hope it has been a blessing to you. And now…on to Part 5! (Find the rest of the story here.)

     Thankfully, Mike was already driving off the closest exit. Providentially, he had noticed a sign for an Urgent Care Center just about the time the boys started shouting about Aunt Hattie. While it wasn’t a hospital, we knew they’d have emergency equipment available and could get an ambulance if necessary. It was just a half mile or so off the exit.
     Mike drove straight to the door and I helped a breathless Aunt Hattie out of the car and into the office. A kind staff member noticed her struggling as soon as we entered and brought us a wheelchair. She wheeled her to a private room and made her as comfortable as possible. Soon an ambulance was picking her up and taking her to the local hospital, which was only about five miles away.
     Mike followed in the car with the boys while I rode in the ambulance at Aunt Hattie’s side. I was filled with worry for my dear aunt who had become so precious to me in the course of just a few days. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I also recognized God’s great kindness and mercy in providing a place to take her just when it was needed and this filled me with faith to trust Him for whatever lay ahead.
          A couple of hours later, Mike had taken the boys on an adventure of eating and shopping to pass the time while I found myself in a small curtained-off area of the emergency room with Aunt Hattie, who was now resting comfortably. A variety of tests had been administered and we were waiting for the results.
     A thirty-something doctor with dark hair and very distinct green eyes soon pulled back the curtain and sat down. A name tag indicated that he was “David Mathisen, MD”.  Immediately, Aunt Hattie seemed preoccupied as he started to tell her the good news that she would not need to be admitted and that her condition could be treated with medication, giving her a diagnosis of heart arrhythmia.
     I smiled broadly at this and turned towards her, expecting to see her smiling broadly, as well. Instead, her face was filled with a puzzled look that belied what she had just heard.
     “Aunt Hattie, are you okay?” I asked anxiously.
     “Oh, yes, dear, I sure am. Young man, may I ask you something personal?”
     The young doctor, had just been about to go into the treatment of her condition, looked up with surprise at this interruption of his professional counsel.
     “Uh, sure,” he said uncertainly. Which was ironic and a bit humorous because he seemed very self-assured.
     What was Aunt Hattie up to now? I thought.
     “Would you happen, by any possible chance on God’s green earth, to be related to a Harry Mathisen?” She said with a twinkle in her eye.
     I knew Aunt Hattie had an older brother Harry, who had died many years before.
     The doctor was astonished, “Why yes, Harry was my grandfather,” and then added sadly, “I never got to meet him, though.”
     “Harry was my brother,” announced Aunt Hattie joyfully.
     “Your brother…?” the young doctor stammered.
     “Yes, he was! And your green eyes are just like his!” She exclaimed, “His eyes were just like my father’s and Harry was the only one of us kids to inherit them. And here is his grandson in the middle of Georgia with those same eyes!”
     The doctor smiled, “I have always been told that I have his eyes. Both my brother and I have them, although my dad, his son, does not.”
     Aunt Hattie continued, “So how have you come to be in an emergency room in the middle of Georgia? The last I heard Harry’s wife and children had moved to Minnesota after his death to be with her family. We completely lost touch after that move but, oh my, that seems a long way from Georgia!” Aunt Hattie laughed.
     As the doctor explained his journey to Georgia, which seemed to have something to do with a young lady he fell in love with during his college years, I listened on in sheer wonder. What a trip this had turned out to be. Aunt Hattie had actually mentioned her brother, Harry, on the way down and expressed her sorrow that she had lost touch with his family. And here was his grandson? What were the chances? Only God could have orchestrated this!
     The young man had transformed from professional doctor to warm and friendly nephew in the course of a few minutes. It was fascinating to watch.
     He told Aunt Hattie that his grandmother was still alive and well in Minnesota, happily married to his Step-Grandpa Marvin for many years. He was sure she’d love to hear from her sister-in-law. He was able to pull up his grandmother’s information on his phone and I carefully copied it on to my phone for my aunt.
     An hour later, with a prescription in hand, we were tucking Aunt Hattie carefully back in the car. Doctor Mathisen was with us and, advising her to take it very easy for the next few days, had warmly hugged his new-found great-aunt before helping her in the car.
     With smiles and waves and promises to stay in touch, we were off. Five hours had been taken up in diagnosing Aunt Hattie but we all marveled at God’s Providence in introducing her to her great-nephew, in the midst of a very harrowing few hours. We were also filled with gratitude that Aunt Hattie’s condition wasn’t serious and could be treated with medication. This was an unexpected blessing, as well.

     The final three hours passed uneventfully and soon we were pulling up to the sprawling rancher that my parents now called home. As my dear family poured out of the doors to welcome us all, despite the late hour, I realized that I was not the same person I was when I had left home just a few days earlier.
     I had learned to be more intentional in my love and concern for others. And to be more thankful. God had taught me the value of appreciating and learning from those who have been living life far longer than I have. And I had also learned that God will provide for His children in the midst of any trial and may even add an unexpected, incredible blessing in the midst of it.
     I took a brief second to thank God that we had brought Aunt Hattie on this trip and for the many blessings and challenges to my status quo Christianity that had come because of it.
     And then I was out of the car, enveloped by the love of my parents and family, ready to celebrate Christmas with a whole new perspective!

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?

 Today I present Part 3 of this year’s Christmas Story. You can find the first two parts here at this link, along with all of the other Growing4Life Christmas stories.

     As Mike drove off the exit, I was groaning inside. A delay was one thing. The financial implications of this was another. We just could not afford a hefty mechanic’s bill during this holiday season. I could almost hear my grandmother murmuring her favorite saying in my ear…don’t count your chickens before they hatch. I tried to will myself not to panic.
     “Where are we going?” Observant Aiden had noticed we had left the highway.
     “Need to check out something with the car, Bud,” said Mike casually, but I could tell the way his hands gripped the steering wheel that he was worried.
     “Why don’t we play a little game, boys?” asked Aunt Hattie, as she creatively thought of some fun little game to play with them to keep them preoccupied as we rolled into a gas station right off the exit.
     Mike opened the hood of the car and looked inside. This car had been a gem so far but it did have an awful lot of miles on it.
     After a short while, Mike pushed the hood down and came to stand by my window, which I rolled down.
     “I don’t think it’s anything major, but I do need to find a mechanic. I’m going to go in and see if they can tell me where to find one,” he pointed to the mini-mart attached to the garage.
     “Okay,” I said.
     I suddenly realized that I hadn’t heard anything from the boys for a while. I turned to check on them. Bless Aunt Hattie’s heart, she had them engrossed in their drawing boards, creatively concocting some game that was keeping them both busy and quiet.
     I closed my eyes and started praying, “Lord, if you could keep this a simple fix that isn’t too expensive, we’d sure appreciate it…”
     Soon Mike was climbing back in the vehicle, “the guy in there said there’s a garage about three miles in that direction,” he pointed to the left and then started the car and turned that way.
     A few miles later, we arrived at an old-fashioned garage that looked like something right out of a movie set from the 1960s. An older man, bearded and dressed in stained blue overalls, walked out of the garage, wiping his hands on an old rag, asking how he could help us.
     Mike opened the hood and he and the mechanic talked for a bit. Meanwhile, I heard Aunt Hattie fussing a bit in the back. She was trying to reach a bag and just couldn’t get to it.
     “Mom, I have to go to the bathroom,” Miles whined.
     I looked at the garage, doubtful that it had a public restroom. But I guess it couldn’t hurt to ask. Miles and I and climbed out of the car, “Aiden, do you have to go?”
     “Yeah, I’ll try,” he said, bounding out of the car with the typical energy of a boy his age.
     Aunt Hattie joined the group, declaring she may as well “try”, too.
     The mechanic kindly offered to let us use the restroom in his shop and soon we all felt much better and started to climb back in the car.
     “Oh, my dear, can I get something out of the back?” Aunt Hattie said.
     “Sure,” I moved to the back and opened the hatch for her. A bag started to tumble out of the stuffed compartment as the door swung up. I moved quickly and was proud of myself for catching it before it fell to the ground.
     Aunt Hattie sifted through the luggage, looking through two or three of her bags, finally pulling a small red box out of one of them and telling me I could shut the hatch.
     I eyed the box curiously. But I didn’t want to be nosy so I didn’t ask. We all got back in the car to wait.
     Within an hour, the mechanic was closing the hood and wiping his hands on his rag again. He took Mike’s credit card for payment and went inside. Hattie jumped out of the vehicle, red box in hand, and followed him inside.
     What in the world was she up to now?
     Soon she came out without the red box, waving the receipt and credit card. She handed the card to Mike, who put it in his wallet but she held on to the receipt, “I went ahead and paid the bill. I am just so grateful that you brought me with you. This is just a little way for me to say thanks.”
     “Oh, Aunt Hattie, no, you don’t need to do that…”
     “Oh, I know I don’t need to. I want to!” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
     “What was in that red box?” a curious Aiden wondered. I was so glad he asked because I wanted to know, too!
     “Oh, it was just a $10 Amazon gift card. I carry several of them with me most always because you just never know when you are going to need to say a hearty thanks to someone who did something special for you. Or maybe just give someone a tiny little pick-me-up. It’s amazing how such a small thing like that will lift someone’s spirits. It’s just a little way to let someone know they are appreciated and care for,” she smiled and then asked the boys if they’d like to continue their game. They enthusiastically said yes and they were soon back to drawing.
     As we pulled back on to the highway, I had to reflect on Aunt Hattie’s words. I knew Aunt Hattie was a thoughtful person. But I didn’t realize how intentional she was in how she cared for others or that her care extended to strangers.
     And I found myself wondering: Should I be more intentional? I was feeling uncomfortable as I recognized how self-focused and self-centered I was as I lived my life. Oh, I loved my family well and took good care of them, and that care extended to my parents and other family. But I rarely thought about the needs of others outside my immediate circle.
     But Aunt Hattie was challenging my whole perspective. As I heard her laugh in the backseat, I just had to smile. Yes, this was going to be an interesting trip in more ways than one.