...And Then There was a Knock at the Door

We've all heard these stories.

"I was down to my last dollar... and then there was a knock at the door."
"I didn't know who to turn to... and then there was a knock at the door."
"I hit rock bottom... and then there was a knock at the door."

In each case, the knock at the door implies that the day was saved.
Problems were solved.
Spirits were lifted.
Money was received.
Things turned around and got better-- if only for the moment.

I have secretly always been a little bit jealous of these types of experiences. I always though it would be so cool to have my day saved by a knock at the door. What a story that would be!

Well, folks, today-- just a few minutes ago in fact-- I had my very own "And then there was a knock at the door" experience. I'll tell you about it.

For the past while, I have been going to my parents house during the day to sneak in a quick meal. This is because the only thing I have in my apartment is a block of pepper jack cheese. Literally.

Tonight, I was laying on my bed trying to do my homework, but I was so hungry. My stomach was growling, and I was easily distracted by anything around me. Finally, I went through my stash of coupons, hoping to find just one that offered me something completely free... nothin. I stuffed all my coupons back in their bag. I was a little let down, but, naturally, I made myself feel better by thinking rationally, Who eats anyway? I mean, really... Just ignore that burning in your stomach. It's not a big deal. It'll be fine. I sat back down and told myself that I could just push my hunger aside until tomorrow afternoon.

And then there was a knock on the door.


Me and Lulu answered it and saw three attractive and nicely dressed men standing at our front door. The one in the middle stood with his hands in front of him, where a perfect little taco lay. He gave us a big smile. The first words out his mouth,

"Would you like a taco?"
Confusion...
They continued, "We are in a persuasion class, and we want to persuade you to buy this taco from us for one dollar."

It turns out, they really didn't have to convince or persuade me. Before they could finish explaining, I ran to my room, scavenged up four quarters from my bag of change, and soon had that little taco in my hands. It sounds a little sketchy, I know. I have no clue where that taco came from, who made it, if it had been spit on, dropped, poisoned, etc.

But I trusted it.
Because I was hungry.

And, boy, was it good.

So today, I am thankful for that knock on the door. I am thankful for those boys, and I am thankful for that taco.

It really did lift my spirits.
And fill my stomach... if only for the moment :)