Christmas Eve found me motoring from Kansas to Arkansas with our geriatric cat, Cotton, and our middle aged Lab, Esther. I had given Cotton a tranquilizer for the five-hour drive, so she protested meekly but regularly from the carrier in the cargo area of my Ford Flex.
I made frequent stops at convenience stores because I kept getting drowsy. Each time I had interactions with folks that kept me thinking of and praying for them for several miles after I departed.
At one, I wished a man with an unkempt gray beard and loose fitting clothes a Merry Christmas.
We were retrieving drinks from the refrigerated cases at the back of the store. "Merry Christmas," he replied smiling. "Are you going to the casino?"
I smiled and told him "No, no, I'm not".
We each still had a door to the cooler open as he proceeded to tell me that he had just gotten off work and that his wife and children had gone away for Christmas, leaving him alone. So he was on his way to the casino to spend the holiday.
"I'm so sorry," I said, caught off guard by his frankness and not really knowing how to respond.
Unperturbed, he described how the local casino is quite a bit nicer than the other one that he frequented. "You should try it," he said enthusiastically.
He said something else I didn't catch, and we both headed to the checkout counter, my thoughts whirling. Was he happy or sad that his family had left him alone for Christmas? I was waiting behind him when a young female clerk called me to her register.
I wished her a Merry Christmas, and she returned the greeting.
"I have to work, though," she explained. "I won't be able to see my kids till tomorrow."
"Oh, that's awful," I sympathized. "But luckily Christmas Day is just the first day of the Twelve Days of Christmas."
"Oh, that's good," she said. "I've never heard of that."
Suddenly a young male clerk jumped in beside the one I was talking to and asked loudly, "Are you talking about Kwanzaa?"
"No," I said, feeling like I needed to shake my head vigorously to process all the conversations I had participated in since I entered the store. "I was talking about the Twelve Days of Christmas".
"Huh? Never heard of it," he confessed.
He had heard of Kwanzaa but not the Twelve Days of Christmas. Letting that sink in, I smiled and returned to my car. "Maybe I should try one of Cotton's tranquilizers," I mused.
"Meow," Cotton complained softly.
At my next convenience store stop, I pulled open the ladies' bathroom door to be immediately greeted by a loud bark. I was so surprised that I gasped loudly. A woman's voice sang out from one of the stalls, "It's all right. It's just my dog Rosco. He won't hurt you."
As there were only two stalls, I reluctantly entered the vacant one, separated from the the voice and the bark by one shared metal partition. Would Rosco stick his snout under the wall? I drew in my feet.
"HELLO? IS THIS THE COUNTY JAIL?" the voice next door boomed. "I'm looking for my fiancé. His name is..." The woman gave a man's name. After a short pause, she said, "Oh, ok. I'll call that one". Apparently her betrothed was locked up at a different location.
I exited as quickly as possible, seriously lamenting the loss of enclosed phone booths...and berating myself for not thanking God enough for all my many blessings.
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