Dora and the Anti-Grinch

I’ve been learning to cook dinner. My teacher is my wife, who has been cooking dinner for me for 40+ years. She is over the moon with my interest in adding cooking to my portfolio of skills. This has been going on for a while, and I’m getting better at it. Being an Engineer in mindset and training, I’m a bit too technical about cooking and have been trying to embrace the “art” of it. With a spatula in one hand and a pencil in the other, I cook and keep track of the mathematics of it on yellow Post-it notes.

I also tend to stick to the few recipes that actually worked out. Repetition reduces angst in the kitchen, but too often, I get that look.  You know the one, the “We are having that again” look.

Yesterday, three new recipes arrived in my inbox. It was an email from my wife. I looked them over and determined that with a slight stretch, I could probably handle them. I made a list and we headed to town to purchase the fixings necessary for the new recipes.

Our nomadic wanderings around the Meijers produce department complete, we headed to the wine aisle to grab a bottle of Pinot Noir to go with the seafood. Then, on our way to the spices, we spotted a guy and three gals, dressed up in business casual, roaming around the dairy area.  They stood out dramatically from the rest of us, casually clad customers. Plus, no coats or salty wet boots. Then I noticed the name tags; they are Meijer employees of the back-office variety.  Maybe even the manager and staff.

As we got closer, I looked them in the eye. They were out spreading holiday cheer among the customers. Each of them had a small bag of candy and was passing it out to customers. This was turning mostly grumpy into mostly happy. I was thinking they were the Anti-Grinch when the Holy Spirit suddenly reminded me of something important. I approached.

“Good morning, I want to thank you, guys, for all this. Look at all this food, shelves and shelves full of anything and everything. And lots and lots of it. We are so blessed to live in this country where we have such a blessing as this. Thank you for your fabulous grocery store,” I said in a rushed kind of way, with Jan next to me nodding in agreement.

“Would you like a piece of candy?” One of the smartly dressed ladies asked while showing me the selection of individually wrapped goodies.

“No thanks, but we love your store. We are your best customers,” I said.

Jan added, “We even get all our prescriptions and vaccinations at the pharmacy over there in the far corner. The staff is so professional. We love this place. Thank you for making it this way.”

They walked away smiling, but at the same time, a little stunned at our enthusiasm. I was a little stunned by our enthusiasm as well. We headed down the spice aisle, looking for the chili-lime powder required for our planned evening feast of hopefully fabulous shrimp tacos.

With the cart piled high and paid for, we rolled toward the exit. I was zipping up my jacket, putting on my warm Carhartt hat and gloves while walking and pushing the cart along, all at the same time. I can be so efficient.

I locked eyes with Dora. She was sitting on the bench by the exit doors with her cart. She was looking right at me. I smiled. She nodded and said, “I was hoping you would crack a smile. I was watching you and your serious face.”

I put the brakes on and stopped. I said, “Thank you for that. I need to be reminded to smile. I am happy, after all, it’s Christmas time.”

She said, “Well, you didn’t look very happy.”

“Sorry about that, I really am happy, I’m blessed,” I said.

Jan was behind me and listening to this exchange. Her body language was telling Dora that she agrees; I should be happy and smiling about it a lot more. Funny how it was easy for me to agree with Dora while being just a little irritated that Jan agreed with her too. I’m thinking that I have more to learn than just how to cook.

Dora had that settled firmly on the bench look, with her full cart next to her. She was waiting, and it was pretty obvious that her mobility was somehow compromised. We chatted a bit about why we should be smiling more. Jan mentioned that it was only two years ago that my life was extended by a series of medical miracles. Dora said, “I could use some of that. I have an aortic aneurysm, and I need to get it checked. It’s been about three years.”

Jan said, “Well, it was David’s aortic valve that was replaced just two years ago.”

This led to the discovery that Dora was a Christian who loved Jesus, and that our encounter was not just a coincidence. Jan said, “Dora, can we pray for you?”

She agreed, and we began to pray for Dora’s healing and that she would be able to get whatever medical care she needed. While we were doing this, an employee of Meijers came walking up and asked, “Are you praying?”

We shook our heads in the affirmative, and he asked if he could pray with us. By this time, Dora’s friend and driver came rolling up with her cart of groceries. Now it’s four of us standing around Dora, praying and trying not to block the steady stream of customers and carts rolling toward the exit doors.

We finished praying. The Meijers employee pulled out a little box and showed us the religious metal inside. He touched Dora on the shoulder with the box in his hand and said, “Be healed in Jesus name.” Then he rushed off as if he were late for something.

Dora repeated, “This is not a coincidence.”

We all nodded in agreement. “Dora, do you read books?” I asked.

“Yes, I love books,” she said.

I left Dora in Jan's capable care and rolled our cart out to the car. I returned with a copy of my book and gifted it to Dora. We parted, all smiles.

I still can see Dora’s face. She looked at peace. She looked happy with her long life, no anxiety, and patient with whatever was happening around her. She loves Jesus. We shared how God has extended my life, and it seems there are assignments for me.  She, of course, is in the same boat and hopefully encouraged.

Now, Holy Spirit, perhaps some help with these tacos? Yes, I will try to smile while I make them.