“Was that crack there before?”
My heart sunk. Yep, a curly crack ran down the center of the windshield. I couldn’t see any place where a rock had hit, so the relentless summer heat and suddenly cooling-off afternoon showers must have been too much for it.
I knew that my insurance would pay for a replacement. All I had to do was set that process in motion.
“Thanks for calling your insurance agent. This is Courtney, how can I help you?”
I explained the reason for my call. She replied, “Okay, lets bring up your policy and get a claim started.” A few seconds after I gave her my name, she said, “Oh. Now I know who you are. But you have no idea who I am.”
She was right. I had no clue. But when she gave me her first and last name, I remembered teaching her as a teenager many years ago. It’s a small world.
It’s a small world indeed. I encounter people from my past just about weekly in our community. Some of them went to our preschool. Others came for vacation bible school. A few were school friends of my children. Occasionally I run into some of their middle and high school teachers. Former church members and class students, like Courtney.
These people from the past check me out at the store, take my order at the drive through window, workout with me at the gym, dine at the same restaurants, work booths at a home show, come to repair my home, and go to the same doctors.
Whenever I recognize a voice or a face from the past, I feel better. Suddenly, the world feels like a smaller and friendlier place. I’m always thankful for that.
Waite for it... 