Guest guest Posted November 8, 1999 Report Share Posted November 8, 1999 >In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 >cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three months >to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much more than >a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel >driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. He did manage to leave >15 dollars a week to buy groceries. Now that he had decided to leave, there >would be no more beatings, but no food either. If there was a welfare system >in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about >it. I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best >homemade dress. I loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to >find a job. The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in >our small town. No luck. The kids stayed, crammed into the car and tried to >be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would listen that I was willing >to learn or do anything. I had to have a job. Still no luck. The last place >we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel >drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big >Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the >window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on the >graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents >an hour and I could start that night. I raced home and called the teenager >down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and >sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on >and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to >her, so we made a deal. That night when and the little ones and I knelt to >say our prayers we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started >at the Big Wheel. When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up >and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money-fully half of what I >averaged every night. As the weeks went by, heating bills added another >strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of >penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to >work and again every morning before I could go home. One bleak fall morning, >I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. >New tires! There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new >tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered. I made a deal >with the owner of the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the >new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to >scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires. I was now working six >nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. >Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the >kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old >toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa >to deliver on Christmas morning. Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing >patches on top of patches on the boys pants and soon they would be to far >gone to repair. On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in >the Big Wheel. These were the truckers, Les, , and Jim, and a state >trooper named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the >Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine. The regulars all >just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left >to get home before the sun came up. When it was time for me to go home at >seven o'clock on Christmas morning I hurried to the car. I was hoping the >kids wouldn't wake up before I managed to get home and get the presents from >the basement and place them under the tree. (We had cut down a small cedar >tree by the side of the road down by the dump.) It was still dark and I >couldn't see much, but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the car-or >was that just a trick of the night? Something certainly looked different, but >it was hard to tell what. When I reached the car I peered warily into one of >the side windows. Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy >was full-full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened >the driver's side door, scrambled inside and kneeled in the front facing the >back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was a >whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box: It >was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of the >other boxes: There were candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. >There was vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, >pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning >items. And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll. As I >drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing >Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never >forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning. Yes, >there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at >the Big Wheel truck stop. > >I BELIEVE IN ANGELS! They live next door, around the corner, work in your >office, patrol your neighborhood, call you at midnight to hear you laugh and >listen to you cry, teach your children, and you see them everyday without >even knowing it!. Send this to someone you think is an angel! > > >>* > > > >> > In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six >>* > > > >> > hungry babies and just >>* > > > >> > 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The >>* > > > >> > boys ranged from three >>* > > > >> > months to seven years; their sister was two. Their >>* > > > >> > Dad had never been >>* > > > >> > much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they >>* > > > >> > heard his tires >>* > > > >> > crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to >>* > > > >> > hide under their >>* > > > >> > beds. He did manage to leave 15 dollars a week to >>* > > > >> > buy groceries. Now >>* > > > >> > that he had decided to leave, there would be no more >>* > > > >> > beatings, but no >>* > > > >> > food either. If there was a welfare system in effect >>* > > > >> > in southern Indiana >>* > > > >> > at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it. >>* > > > >> > I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and >>* > > > >> > then put on my best >>* > > > >> > homemade dress. I loaded them into the rusty old 51 >>* > > > >> > Chevy and drove off >>* > > > >> > to find a job. The seven of us went to every >>* > > > >> > factory, store and >>* > > > >> > restaurant in our small town. No luck. >>* > > > >> > The kids stayed, crammed into the car and tried to >>* > > > >> > be quiet while I >>* > > > >> > tried to convince whomever would listen that I was >>* > > > >> > willing to learn or >>* > > > >> > do anything. I had to have a job. Still no luck. >>* > > > >> > The last place we went to, just a few miles out of >>* > > > >> > town, was an old Root >>* > > > >> > Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a >>* > > > >> > truck stop. It was >>* > > > >> > called the Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned >>* > > > >> > the place and she >>* > > > >> > peeked out of the window from time to time at all >>* > > > >> > those kids. She needed >>* > > > >> > someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until >>* > > > >> > seven in the morning. >>* > > > >> > She paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that >>* > > > >> > night. >>* > > > >> > I raced home and called the teenager down the street >>* > > > >> > that baby-sat for >>* > > > >> > people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my >>* > > > >> > sofa for a dollar a >>* > > > >> > night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the >>* > > > >> > kids would already >>* > > > >> > be asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to >>* > > > >> > her, so we made a >>* > > > >> > deal. That night when and the little ones and I >>* > > > >> > knelt to say our prayers >>* > > > >> > we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. >>* > > > >> > And so I started at the Big Wheel. When I got home >>* > > > >> > in the mornings I >>* > > > >> > woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one >>* > > > >> > dollar of my tip >>* > > > >> > money-fully half of what I averaged every night. As >>* > > > >> > the weeks went by, >>* > > > >> > heating bills added another strain to my meager >>* > > > >> > wage. The tires on the >>* > > > >> > old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and >>* > > > >> > began to leak. I had >>* > > > >> > to fill them with air on the way to work and again >>* > > > >> > every morning before >>* > > > >> > I could go home. One bleak fall morning, I dragged >>* > > > >> > myself to the car to >>* > > > >> > go home and found four tires in the back seat. New >>* > > > >> > tires! There was no >>* > > > >> > note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new >>* > > > >> > tires. Had angels taken >>* > > > >> > up residence in Indiana? I wondered. >>* > > > >> > I made a deal with the owner of the local service >>* > > > >> > station. In exchange >>* > > > >> > for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his >>* > > > >> > office. I remember >>* > > > >> > it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it >>* > > > >> > did for him to do the >>* > > > >> > tires. >>* > > > >> > I was now working six nights instead of five and it >>* > > > >> > still wasn't enough. >>* > > > >> > Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no >>* > > > >> > money for toys for the >>* > > > >> > kids. I found a can of red paint and started >>* > > > >> > repairing and painting some >>* > > > >> > old toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there >>* > > > >> > would be something >>* > > > >> > for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning. Clothes >>* > > > >> > were a worry too. I >>* > > > >> > was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys >>* > > > >> > pants and soon they >>* > > > >> > would be too far gone to repair. >>* > > > >> > On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking >>* > > > >> > coffee in the Big >>* > > > >> > Wheel. These were the truckers, Les, , and Jim, >>* > > > >> > and a state trooper >>* > > > >> > named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after >>* > > > >> > a gig at the Legion >>* > > > >> > and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine. >>* > > > >> > The regulars all just >>* > > > >> > sat around and talked through the wee hours of the >>* > > > >> > morning and then left >>* > > > >> > to get home before the sun came up. >>* > > > >> > When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock >>* > > > >> > on Christmas morning >>* > > > >> > I hurried to the car. I was hoping the kids wouldn't >>* > > > >> > wake up before I >>* > > > >> > managed to get home and get the presents from the >>* > > > >> > basement and place >>* > > > >> > them under the tree. (We had cut down a small cedar >>* > > > >> > tree by the side of >>* > > > >> > the road down by the dump.) It was still dark and I >>* > > > >> > couldn't see much, >>* > > > >> > but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the >>* > > > >> > car-or was that just a >>* > > > >> > trick of the night? Something certainly looked >>* > > > >> > different, but it was >>* > > > >> > hard to tell what. >>* > > > >> > When I reached the car I peered warily into one of >>* > > > >> > the side windows. >>* > > > >> > Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered >>* > > > >> > Chevy was full-full to >>* > > > >> > the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I >>* > > > >> > quickly opened the >>* > > > >> > driver's side door, scrambled inside and kneeled in >>* > > > >> > the front facing the >>* > > > >> > back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of >>* > > > >> > the top box. Inside >>* > > > >> > was a whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I >>* > > > >> > looked inside >>* > > > >> > another box: It was full of shirts to go with the >>* > > > >> > jeans. Then I peeked >>* > > > >> > inside some of the other boxes: There were candy and >>* > > > >> > nuts and bananas >>* > > > >> > and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for >>* > > > >> > baking, and canned >>* > > > >> > vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and >>* > > > >> > Jell-O and cookies, pie >>* > > > >> > filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry >>* > > > >> > supplies and >>* > > > >> > cleaning items. And there were five toy trucks and >>* > > > >> > one beautiful little >>* > > > >> > doll. >>* > > > >> > As I drove back through empty streets as the sun >>* > > > >> > slowly rose on the most >>* > > > >> > amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with >>* > > > >> > gratitude. And I >>* > > > >> > will never forget the joy on the faces of my little >>* > > > >> > ones that precious >>* > > > >> > morning. >>* > > > >> > Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago >>* > > > >> > December. And they all >>* > > > >> > hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop. >>> > > > >> > >>* > > > >> > I BELIEVE IN ANGELS! They live next door, around >>* > > > >> > the corner, work in your office, patrol your >>* > > > >> > neighborhood, call you at midnight to hear you laugh >>* > > > >> > and listen to you cry, teach your children, and you >>* > > > >> > see them everyday without even knowing it!. Send >> * > > > >> > this to someone you think is an angel! 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