It’s Thanksgiving night and I am thankful for my family who gathered in my home. It was a day to gaze around the table and listen to the laughter and stories from my grown children. As I listened, I thanked God for their good health and happiness. Then my thoughts went back to another day; just two days ago, as a matter of fact. This is where my story starts.
Boxes of Blessings…
My church like many other churches in our area collects food for those who struggle to make ends meet. The Social Concerns committee hangs fall leaves on a tree. Each leaf has a suggestion on what is needed for the boxes.
Then the congregation did what they do best. They responded with open hearts.
Soon bags surrounded the base of the tree waiting for the day to be sorted and packed. The committee purchased many boxes of eggs, gallons of milk, and pounds of butter along with turkeys; lots of turkeys. The youth of our church baked over forty good-looking, delicious smelling pumpkin pies.
On Monday evening, the committee met and filled two to three boxes per family. The boxes were filled to the very top and sometimes overflowed with everything to a make a delicious Thanksgiving meal.
On Tuesday morning, a group of folks met very early to pack the boxes into as many trucks and SUV’s as were available. This is where my husband and I came into the scene. Picture this; ten people, loading carts with heavy boxes, pushing them to the vehicles and reloading them carefully; very carefully. Soon, we were ready to roll.
We looked like a caravan of hope traveling down the highway. When we pulled into the social agency’s parking lot, my heart took a turn. As we got out of our vehicles, we were met by the gal in charge, then like a streak of lightning, the doors opened and person after person headed over to help unload the boxes. My heart was filled with gratitude, as I watched each person, carrying the heavy boxes, seeing their smiles, and hearing “thank you” over and over again.
Gratitude for an agency where folks who need help can find it. Gratitude for a kind compassionate congregation. Gratitude for the Social Concern committee who shopped for the perishable food, sorted, and boxed it up. Gratitude for the trucks and SUV’s that carried the boxes down the roads leading to the agency. Gratitude for the many hands that unloaded and organized. But most of all, I am grateful for the boxes that changed hands that day. The boxes filled with everything needed for a Thanksgiving feast. The boxes filled with blessings for those who dearly needed them.
My name is Cynthia Jean DeLuca. I am a wife, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother. I believe in following your dreams and never giving up! Helping others is very important to me, for when we help others, we help ourselves. It is my hope to make a difference in the lives of children and grown-ups. My hobbies are writing, quilting and painting. I am a novice at all three but, enjoy them immensely. I grew up on a farm with no indoor plumbing and no heat in our upstairs. I love life and have a very strong faith. Working on inspirational short stories for grown- ups. Love to speak on topics that touch my heart.
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