I've often wondered why
such strange things happen to me. Sure, I
know sometimes I can bring them on myself, but there
are those things that happen "just
because." Here's a little story about
one of those
times.
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When my
daughter, Heather, was in her first year of high
school, I was in my first (and last) year of selling
Discovery Toys. For those of you who don't
already know, these are more than just your average
toys. They are fantastic educational
toys that have value for children from birth through
adulthood.
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I did one of
these toy demonstrations that year in
Conway, New Hampshire. One of the women that
attended had a sister in Vermont, who really wanted to
have a party of her own. So, I called her and
set an appointment for two weeks later on a Saturday
morning. Since the drive was about two hours,
I arranged to stay at her home the night before in
order to be there and ready for her 10:00 a.m.
gathering.
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I
asked my daughter if she would like to go with me, and
she jumped at the chance. It was winter, of
course, and very cold. The roadways were
clear; however, there was snow piled up alongside the
roads all the way to Vermont. Most of the
drive was paved highway, but once inside the little
town where my demonstration was to be held, the roads
became snow-packed and
narrow.
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nbsp;
The
woman (I'll call her Nancy) had provided me with great
directions, and I was pleased that we found our way so
easily. No sooner had that thought
crossed my mind when we took the last road in the
directions. When I say it was black on this
road, I am not exaggerating. We couldn't see
light beyond what was provided by my
headlamps. But, after all, Nancy had said
that I would go down a country dirt road for several
miles before reaching her house. Three miles
on dirt road is a long ways. Wouldn't you
agree? Now add ice and snow to the
mix.
Miserable!!
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amp;nbsp;
Nan
cy had described it in great detail. It would
be a two-story log home.
There would be a porch going completely across
the front of the house. It would have a very
spacious yard (not that I would have noticed in the
dark), and the front porch light would be on so we
could see to find our way inside the
house.
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Just as
she promised, three wearisome miles
later, we finally saw the
house. It was a very large,
two-story home with the front porch light
brightly shining. And, yes, it had a
wrap-around porch perched about five feet off the
ground. Heather and I were so relieved to get
there, especially since it was now after
midnight.
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We quietly
crept up the steps in order not to wake
anyone. The door to the house was made of
solid wood, unlocked, and didn't make a sound
when I turned the knob. As Heather and I
stepped inside, we were greeted by a loud, low
growl. I wished Nancy had warned us about the
dog, which I couldn't see at the time! I
motioned to Heather not to be afraid and to follow
me. There was a note on the
table, and I stepped forward to reach for
it. As I did, the growling became much more
intense. Now I was the one who was afraid and
stood
frozen.
&
nbsp;
About
that time, a very sleep boy about nine years
old came down the stairs rubbing his tired
eyes. I immediately apologized for waking him
up and explained who we were and why we were
there. I also told him we were a bit afraid
of the dog. He didn't seem impressed, said
the dog wouldn't hurt us, and then he headed
back
upstairs.
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p;nbsp;
I
could hear him trying to wake Nancy. It's so
funny to listen to children yell in their "whisper
voice." Then he called
her again. And again. I'm
thinking the woman must be dead or something because
this poor child can't get her to wake up at
all! Now, with the kitchen light on, Heather
and I are still backed up against the front
door, frightened by the huge black
dog perched about 15 feet in front of us. She
looked at me and said, "Mom, I can't believe you
took me all the way to Vermont, and we're in
a house with mean dog and probably a dead
woman!" I told her not to be silly, even
though I was thinking the same
thing.
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Suddenly
, that sweet child came bouncing back down the
stairs. He said he wasn't able
to wake her. I asked if he thought
she was okay. "Yes," he
said. "It's just that she has to be up
in a couple of hours. She always gets up at
2:00 in the morning to feed the
chickens." This seemed reasonable to me
since they lived so far in the country, so I simply
asked him where we should sleep. He looked at
me kind of funny and said, "I don't
know." Then it hit
me.
;
I asked the
boy, "What's your mom's name?" He
told me and then said, "But this isn't my
house. I'm just here visiting
my grandmother." Heather and I
looked crossways at each other in confusion.
I said, "Okay. Is your grandmother's
name, Nancy?" He looked at me like I was
nuts, and said, "No, Nancy is my
aunt." Now, I was completed
confused. Then he continued, "She lives
down the
street."
O
h my gosh!! We were in the wrong
house!! I told this curious little youngster
how sorry I was and thanked him for his help.
When we stepped outside, I looked at my daughter and
warned, "Don't you dare laugh until we are
in the car with the
doors
closed!"
; And laugh we did. I couldn't see anything
again, but not because of the dark. The tears
were flowing down my face from laughter.
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I pulled out
of the yard, turned to the left and, sure
enough! A quarter of a mile up the road, on
the same side was an
identical log
home. And yes, the light was on for us there
as well. We entered into a warm kitchen, and
rather than being met by a fierce-looking dog, we were
met by Nancy and a glowing wood fire. Nancy
was grasping a cup of tea and asked us if
we'd had a good trip. Hysterical, we tried
to tell her what had happened, and she
explained that it was her mother-in-law's home we had
visited. We all got to laughing so
hard that she had to get us into the guest room
before we woke her husband and
children.
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Heather and I
have laughed about that night many times through the
years. I can still hear the giggles bubbling
up inside of her, knowing if she had begun laughing
before we reached the car, Nancy's mother-in-law would
have been
awakened. Heather still&
;nbsp;laughs from her toes - one
of her most endearing qualities.
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