The summer of thankfulness

I remember being excited to start first grade. I filled my school box with chunky pencils; made sure every crayon had a sharp tip and wrote my name on the top right corner of my Big Chief tablet.
   Eager to use scissors with a point for the first time I knew I was hot stuff. That is until I was given a note from the school nurse to take home. It said I needed to go to the eye doctor.
   My mother made an appointment and before you knew it; my little body sunk into the huge leather chair in the optometrist office. Fascinated by the funny looking machine that hung from the ceiling I scooted to the edge of the big chair to look through the silly apparatus. It made me dizzy as lenses flipped back and forth. Six-year-old wisdom knew the alphabet was out of order; the doctor chuckled when I told him but he didn’t fix it.
   We picked out white frames with silver sparkles for my new glasses. I needed to wear them when I read. I’m still not sure why an eye doctor would put a six year old in bifocals but after a few years I didn’t need them anymore, however I became near sighted and needed new glasses for the different diagnosis.
   I despised wearing glasses and started to beg for contact lenses. It was obvious to my parents and eye doctor I wasn’t mature enough to put aside my glasses yet since I didn’t always put my glasses in their case when done wearing them. How could I be responsible for contact lenses?
   Shortly after celebrating my May birthday my dad announced that since I was fourteen and school was out, I could get a job using the money to buy contacts if I wanted. He couldn’t have said anything that made me happier.
   The first day of summer vacation daddy took me to a gas station that just opened for business instructing if asked ‘you are fifteen’. The owner of the business explained whenever someone bought gasoline they qualified for a free car wash. My job was to dry off cars when they pulled through the wash and the driver of the car would give me a tip if I did a good job.
   It was typical for people to fiddle in their console for a loose nickel or dime but sometimes I’d get a crisp dollar bill. I learned a lot about people. There were those that would fill their tanks before driving through the wash to redeem their bonus. Others would buy a quarters worth of gasoline for their free car wash.
   I honed my technique of providing customers with a streak free windshield. I learned those that complained of a tiny smudge would drive right past me saying I didn’t earn a tip that day. Whether or not a gratuity was offered, the patron always received a big smile and the words ‘thank you for stopping by today’ from me.
Each night I counted loose change and occasional dollar bills along with my weekly paycheck which indicated my hourly wage of $1.10. The weekly deposit I made into savings added up to almost one hundred dollars a month. It was worth it to me to work forty to fifty hours a week for that much money.
   Labor Day marked the end of my first summer employment experience and there was more than three hundred dollars in the savings account with my name on it. I earned enough to buy my first set of contact lenses and school supplies to start high school.
   A three-ring binder filled with ruled paper and a zippered bag full of ink pens and No. 2 pencils replaced my pencil box. I rode the city bus to Dr. Mathis’ office to set back in the same leather chair that wasn’t quite so big to me any longer. I put my face against the silly apparatus that still looked ridiculous and was measured for my first pair of contact lenses.
   The lessons learned the summer of my fourteenth birthday served my life well.
   There are people that will cross your path that are appreciative of their mere existence. They are thankful for blessings even if it’s as simple as a free carwash. Then there are those who are takers. If you allow them, they will drain every ounce of goodness out of you.
   I’m indebted to my parents for teaching me the value of a dollar and allowing the experience of seeing the good and bad in people. The summer of 1970 set the mold of the thankful person I am today.
   The job taught me hope! I can honestly say this was probably the first time in my life I truly experienced sincere hope beyond desiring a specific doll or toy as a present. What better to teach a young adult to work hard in the heat of a Midwest summer than to expose them to humanity at their best and worse? I hoped for simple things – cloudy days and gentle people.
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Karen Maag is a Christian speaker and writer who has a passion for women who are hurting and the friends and family who support them. She is a wife, mother and grandmother to four beautiful gifts from God. She enjoys cooking, decorating and sharing the message of hope and forgiveness God has revealed to her. "Ephesians 6:19 says, "Pray also for me that God will give me a message when I am ready to speak so that I may speak boldly and make known the gospels secret," she says. "I have prayed. God has placed his message of hope within my heart and I am ready to speak!" Her hope is that you will enjoy reading what she has written as much as she as enjoyed penning it. You can follow Karen on her website, www.karenmaag.com or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/reflectionsofhope.