Who can it be knocking at my door?

When you are in a really bad financial situation, there are lots and lots,

and lots,

of things to stress about.

When the phone rings, you stress.

When a bill comes, you stress.

Especially the one that comes in the different color envelope.

Or the envelope with the big red bar across the top of it.

That one means you are really running out of time.

You stress over talking to your husband about anything regarding money, because more often than not, it results in a fight.

You stress over having money for gas, and food, and field trips, and book fairs.

But one of the biggest stressors?

That knock on the door.

When you have no money and someone knocks on the door, it’s an automatic increase in your heart rate.

Who is it, and what does he or she want?

Last week there was a knock on the door.

Before I could even peek out the window to see if it was someone I should try and hide from, Number 3 and 4 had opened the door.

“Mom! There’s a man here! He wants to talk to you!”

Fuck.

I told Number 3 and 4 to go to the playroom, and I went to see who The Man was.

CL&P.

Shit.

“I’m here to turn off the power,” he said.

“Can I make a payment over the phone right now?” I asked.

He saw all the kids, who of course had to know what was going on, and were standing behind me.

“Well, I’m not supposed to wait, but I’ll cancel the disconnect order. Make that payment right now.”

I thanked him profusely, got my phone, and made the payment.

I’d worry about the fact that I had just used the food money to pay the electric bill later…

So yesterday I was up in the office talking to my husband and there was another knock on the door.

“Shit,” he said.

“Well, it’s not the guy from CL&P,” I told him. “He was here last week.”

“Do I have to go see who it is?” I asked.

“I’ll go,” my husband answered. He’d take this one for the team.

I sat up in the office, trying not to hear who is was. Trying to avoid the bad news just a minute or two longer.

I heard my husband coming back up the stairs. I turned around to look at him. He was holding a box.

“It was just a box,” he said, holding it up and showing me. “It’s for you.”

I had no idea who it was from or what it was.

We opened it together.

I found this letter inside.

Holy Shit.

There was a brown and white bag under the letter.

I opened it up, and found this.

Holy Shit. Again.

Somebody sent me a $350 purse from Nordstrom.

I don’t know who you are.

But thank you.

To be totally honest, I’m not really a purse person.

So I’m not sure what I will do with it.

But really, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Thank you for the very, very generous gift.

Thank you for thinking of me.

Thank you for taking the time to package that up and send it.

But most importantly, thank you for the words.

The very, very, VERY kind words.

They were a reminder.

A reminder that I needed.

It’s pretty easy right now to focus on the negative and the what-ifs.

To allow myself to be overcome by the stress.

To hide from the person at the door.

Or, I can take a different route.

I can face the unknown.

Head on.

Sure it might be The Man from CL&P.

But who knows…

Maybe, just maybe, it won’t.

The next time I hear a knock at the door?

The next time instead of opening it with a feeling of complete and total panic,

the next time I’ll open that door with a little faith and a lot of hope.

Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

In your letter you said that I changed your life, and,

well,

all I can say is,

right back atcha 🙂

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