Beech Tree News Network

“Cheryl, where’s the ketchup?” Garey yells from the kitchen.
“In the refrigerator door where it always is,” I yell back.
“I don’t see it,” he yells.
    I walk into the kitchen, where Garey is standing in front of the refrigerator door.  I reach over him and pull the bottle of ketchup from where it is hiding behind the other condiments.
    “I was expecting a taller bottle,” he says.
    I am amazed every time Garey says something like that.  He is sixty-eight years old and is still thrown off course by the smallest thing that isn’t as he expects it should be.  I don’t mean life experiences.  Garey is great at adapting to adversity or flying by the seat of his pants when a situation calls for it.  No, I’m referring to tangible things like ketchup bottles.
    If an object is moved a quarter inch from its original location, he will not be able to find it.  He is always saying things like, “Don’t we have any bug spray?  I looked on the top shelf of the closet but it wasn’t there.” 
    “Did you look on the second shelf?” I ask.
    “No,” he says, “It’s supposed to be on the top shelf.”
    If I can be thankful for anything in my background, it is the fact that I learned to expect the unexpected.  I’m rarely shocked if something isn’t where I left it or if the plans I make don’t come to fruition. 
    Earlier in the week, our granddaughter spent the night with us, which meant I would be taking her to school the next morning.  I made sure to start the car early that morning, because it was so cold.  We left the warmth of the house and hurried through the frigid air to my car.  When I opened Sabria’s door, I felt a blast of cold air coming from the vents on the dash.
    “Oh Sabria,” I said, “Gee’s heater isn’t working.”
    I quickly shut off the fan, buckled her in then got behind the wheel.
    “I’m freezing, Gee,” Sabria said, as we rolled down the driveway and onto the main road.
    “I know, Baby,” I said, “Pull your sweatshirt up over your mouth and your sleeves down over your hands,”
    “I can see my breath,” Sabria said.
    “I can see mine too,” I said.
    “When warm air meets cold air, it makes fog,” she informed me.  “Watch, my breath is fog.”  She blew out a warm breath of air that turned immediately into a soft mist of white.
    “When fog freezes, it makes snow,” I said.
    “Gee,” she said, “It could snow in your car.”
    “If it gets any colder, it probably will,” I told her.
    She spent the rest of the ride to school trying to make it snow.  I was so proud of her.  She took an unexpected situation and turned it into an expectation for good.  I haven’t always had that expectation for good.  Most of the time, when the unexpected shows up, I just keep my head down and muddle through.  But there is something amazing that happens when you lift your eyes and expect good.  Good shows up.  Maybe, not in an earth-shattering, life-shifting way, but you will still recognize it.  It will be right beside you in the warm breath of a small child who’s trying to make it snow in your car.