In my last post I was griping about the UPS person (among other things) and how he or she completely ignored my note about putting packages on the side porch.
The Universe is such a mysterious and wonderful place.
It's Christmastime and I've been busy ordering gifts. Every other day or so a present seems to arrive. Sometimes I see the UPS truck slow down in front of my house, sometimes I don't. On Thursday I did, so like a kid in footies and snowman-covered pajamas, I dashed through the rooms to see what new item was being delivered. I opened the door as the UPS man was coming up the steps and he introduced himself as the son of someone I know. "Hey!" I said, we exchanged pleasantries, and then Harry came tearing down the hall in typical Harry fashion, barking his head off. I joked about my furry doorbell, we waved goodbye, I took my package, and that was that; or so I thought.
Today another package arrived and this time I didn't see the truck. I checked the porch this afternoon and did indeed find a box, some delivery from Amazon. On top of the box was a dog bone. For Harry.
There are times I regret leaving New York City to journey into another life upstate, to a little town where everybody seems to know your business and where I have to travel 40 miles to find a sushi restaurant. Today was not one of those days.
Santa came early this year, not in a sleigh but driving a big brown truck, reminding me (as the Grinch discovered) that Christmas doesn't come from a store. It comes from the heart.
Thanks Mr. UPS angel. You made my week (not to mention Harry's).