Christmas parking...

So I was trying to find a parking place at the mall when I noticed a brand new automobile parked diagonally across two very choice parking spots. I fussed and fumed and said words that would guarantee me a spot on the "naughty" list. Finally I found a place to put my car and when I came out I found a smudge of black paint on my pretty red Chevrolet. Suddenly, that disrespectful and selfish driver looked pretty danged smart.

I was reminded of the story of Great Aunt Molly Jane. She was raised up during the depression and truly believed that when she bought something, be it a toaster or a pair of under britches that they should last forever. St. Peter did not allow people into heaven who did not take care of the things the good Lord gave them. (Her words and they were said so often they were engrained upon all her younger relative's little brains).

That being said, we were all amazed at what happened one hot summer day many years ago. It was the end of August and hotter than the furnace door in Hades. Summer sales were going on and Aunt Molly Jane was of the opinion that kids got too much for Christmas. She always bought summer clothing for them in a size bigger than what they wore--and they'd better take care of it and make it last all summer. Heaven forbid if they got a stain on the Barney T-shirt. (Remember this was years ago when that dinosaur was very popular.)

Her car was just a tad bit smaller than a shrimp boat. Her late husband bought if for her before he passed away, somewhere about 1959. She covered it with bed sheets at night even though it was kept in the garage, and there was no smoking, food or even gum allowed inside it. And your purse had to be wiped down before it was allowed to sit on the floor.

Anyway, she went Christmas shopping that hot July day and drove around the parking lot for fifteen minutes before she found a spot. She pulled her car up behind the lady who was unloading the supplies into the bed of her truck and waited patiently. Just about the time the truck got pulled out and Aunt Molly Jane put her car into gear, a little low slung sports car whipped into the spot that Aunt Molly Jane had been sitting in the heat waiting for. NOTE: You did not use the air conditioner in a car because is would wear the motor out!)

Aunt Molly Jane went to church three times a week and had the preacher over to Sunday dinner on the first Sunday of every month. She preached about the fruits of the spirit and how that patience was a virtue. But I guess the fruit on her spirit tree withered up right then and there in the parking lot.

The young kid jumped out of his car and she got out of hers. He said, "Now that, old lady, is what youth and speed will do for you."

She nodded and crawled back into her vehicle, put it in drive and rammed into the back of the cute little red sports car. The young man was on his way into the mall when he heard the crash and from the story I heard, he put a six year old girl to shame in the screaming and weeping process. Before he could run back to his car, Aunt Molly Jane backed up a bit and let that sports car have another dose of her shrimp boat. Two more times and the trunk was sitting somewhere close to the steering wheel. And the kid was sitting on the pavement with his head in his hands, crying like a baby, asking, "Why, why, why?" between sobs.

Aunt Molly Jane got out of her car and patted the kid on the head. "Youth and speed won't ever stand up against old age and determination, son. Here's my number and my name. I don't expect my insurance will pay for the damage to your car since this was not an accident. I will pay for it in cash and next time tell your daddy to buy you something that will last. They just don't make cars the way they used to. I only have a few smudges of red on my chrome bumper and I can get that out with some polish and elbow greased. Now get up and quit actin' like a baby. Learn your lessons. Don't drive fast. Don't tick off little old ladies, learn to take care of what you have and go to church and learn some patience. And get a haircut. It's too hot to wear your hair that long."

She didn't blink an eye when she wrote her check for high risk insurance for the next three years.