The phone rang. It was my visiting teaching companion.
"I'm ordering dinner to be delivered to your house. Is 6:00 ok?" I tried to convince her that we were fine (we really were), but she would have none of it. "What kind of pizza do you like?" When I told her, she asked what else we wanted. Again, I tried to let her know that a pizza was above and beyond.... Again, she just hushed me up and figured out the rest herself.
Nearly on the button, Mr. Pizza Man arrived with not only our favorite pizza, but breadsticks, salad, and brownies for each of us. Oh, yes, and the delish root beer that sends my kids over the moon.
As we ate the food that filled our home with wonderful smells of garlic, my children exclaimed, "I can't believe she would do this for us! She is so nice!"
Why did she do this?
Because she loves me. She knew I was under the weather, and this was her simple way to showing that she cared.
I really could have fed my family. I had leftovers in the fridge. This was not an issue of not being ABLE.
It was an issue of being loved.
What better comfort food is there, really, than that given from the heart?
Thanks, friend. Thank you for loving me.