Even in the Unsuccessful Things

I was out all afternoon outfitting children with snow boots that fit them,
and generally making sure they wouldn't suffer frostbite tomorrow.
I picked my husband up after a few hours,
and having succeeded in finding at thrift stores
boots for two of the three who needed them,
we headed over to another store
to attempt finding an economical pair for the last one.

I was not successful, but we wandered into the grocery section,
where samples of pear slices were being handed out.
The children wanted some, so we stopped and waited
while the sample lady sliced some for them.
We smiled and thanked her, and went on our way.
About fifteen minutes later,
we passed her again headed another direction, and she called out to us,
"Do they want anymore pears?"
They did, so I stopped again, and thanked her again.

We had not been able to locate the day old bread rack,
although we were looking for it.
So I turned back to her, and said,
"Maybe you know... where is the day old bread rack?
I haven't been able to locate one."
She left her station, and came and showed me where it was.

A few minutes later, we were still looking the rack over,
when she came back and gestured to Jeff and I to come over to her.
The kids started to follow, and she said, "I don't want your kids to know,"
so Jeff stayed back with them, and I followed her around the corner.
"Give me your address," she said.
I was confused by this direct demand from a stranger.

She started talking kind of fast, obviously excited.
She told me she goes around and does these sample things all over,
and she did one last week where her product didn't arrive until a day late,
and when she talked to the company,
they told her she was just going to have to dispose of it herself.
"What am I going to do with 600 of these?!" she said.
"So I have been praying about who to give them to," she told me.
And I know I am supposed to give them to you for your kids."
I started to tear up at this sweet little reminder
that the Lord sees us and cares for us,
and I pulled out a notepad and wrote down my name and address for her.

"You're a Christian, aren't you?" she said.
"Yes, I am," I answered, "I just moved here."
"See? The Lord wanted me to give you this," she said. "I can tell.
The Spirit is all over me, and I know."
I hugged her, and said, "Thank you," yet again.
I told her where I live, I didn't even get her name.

And walking away, I thought about how He leads us,
even in the unsuccessful things.
My daughter can wear her brother's old boots:
they'll do for a day.