Trust In Others

A couple weeks ago, I was invited at the last minute to attend a Warriors game. I’d be taking off right after work and carpooling up to Oakland with a couple coworkers. I got dropped off back at work just after 11pm so I could grab my stuff and go home.

When I got inside, I saw the red voicemail light was lit on my office phone. Curiosity got the better of me – my work line is rarely used at all, let alone somebody leaving me a message. It was a message from one of the cafeteria staff letting me know that I’d left my debit card there and they had it; I could stop by and pick it up before they closed at 7, or I could pick it up on Monday.

Walking out to the car, I wondered what poor soul they had meant to leave the message for. I hadn’t been to the cafeteria that day, and when I do go, I never pay with a debit card. Besides, my debit card is right here in my–

Oh.

No, it’s not.

…

Hrmm. Well.

Apparently, when I stopped at the ATM (which is right next to the cafeteria) to get cash before heading up to the game, I managed to walk away from the loudly-beeping ATM and leave my ATM/debit card in it. Someone must have found it and turned it over to the cafeteria staff to hold until I could pick it up.

Oops.

Walking across the parking lot, I considered just calling the bank and reporting the card as lost. They’d send me a new one, and I wouldn’t have to go face the cafeteria staff and admit that I had ignored the loud beeping noise. (How did McCoy put it? “If I jumped every time a machine beeped at me…”) It would limit the downside to the damage that could be caused by whoever had my card in their possession. It’s what you’re supposed to do when you leave your card someplace. It’s right there in the cardholder agreement…

That weekend was General Conference, so I managed to forget about the missing card until I got back to work on Monday. I claimed my card, checked the account online just to make sure no one had used the card over the weekend, and all was well in the world. I just didn’t realize how well until later.

When we got home that night, there was a letter on the door. In our excited anticipation of Conference, we had apparently forgotten to pay the rent. We now had three days to pay them with a cashier’s check (not a personal check) or they’d start the eviction process.

Big oops.

The main problem this presented was how to get the amount of rent from our primary checking account to the local checking account. Our primary bank doesn’t have a local branch, and the accounts at our local bank didn’t have enough for rent. (I’ve since remedied the latter problem.) I made a large cash withdrawal from the primary checking account (they have a generous daily ATM limit), deposited it at our local bank, and had them issue a cashier’s check. (The nearest branch is open until 7pm – handy.) I walked into the rental office first thing Tuesday morning and fulfilled my obligations to them. (They don’t put a black mark on your file until you’re a week late with the rent, they just don’t accept a personal check once you’re three days late.) All was well in the world.

Driving in to work, I realized how blessed I was. First we had the money readily available to cover rent – that was never the problem. We had simply neglected the physical task of writing out the check and dropping it off on the first of the month. My heart goes out to those who struggle to make ends meet each month. But second, and more important, the only reason we were able to drop off the cashier’s check in time was because I hadn’t reported the ATM card as being lost. The replacement wouldn’t have arrived in time. Had I been cynical about the safety of my lost card, I would have put myself in quite a bind. But because I listened when a still, small voice said everything would be okay, the Lord was able to bless us – and everything was okay.

The 500th Note: The Little Red Hen

I’ve started using Evernote as a digital notebook to collect scraps of paper, quotes, comics, etc. Anything that I would have cut out or printed off and put in a binder to save for later. I’ve got recipes, quotes, business cards, take-out menus, letters, owners manuals, and notes from lessons I’ve taught. I’ve just been using the free version so far. They’re serious about making your notes available to you wherever you are – they have clients for Mac, Windows, iPhone, iPad, Android, Blackberry, and probably more.

Anyway, I just added my 500th note: The Little Red Hen, as told by Ronald Reagan on his radio program in 1976. There’s another rendition of The Little Red Hen as told by Sterling W. Sill over on my Spoken Writ blog, if you’re interested, but here’s Ronaldus Magnus:

Once upon a time there was a little red hen who scratched about the barnyard until she uncovered some grains of wheat. She called her neighbors and said ”If we plant this wheat, we shall have bread to eat. Who will help me plant it?”

“Not I,” said the cow.

“Not I,” said the duck.

“Not I,” said the pig.

“Not I,” said the goose.

“Then I will,” said the little red hen. And she did.

The wheat grew tall and ripened into golden grain. “Who will help me reap my wheat?” asked the little red hen.

“Not I,” said the duck.

“Out of my classification,” said the pig.

“I’d lose my seniority,” said the cow.

“I’d lose my unemployment compensation,” said the goose.

“Then I will,” said the little red hen, and she did.

At last the time came to bake the bread. “Who will help me bake bread?” asked the little red hen.

“That would be overtime for me,” said the cow.

“I’d lose my welfare benefits,” said the duck.

“I’m a dropout and never learned how,” said the pig.

“If I’m to be the only helper, that’s discrimination,” said the goose.

“Then I will,” said the little red hen.

She baked five loaves and held them up for the neighbors to see.

They all wanted some and, in fact, demanded a share. But the little red hen said, “No, I can eat the five loaves myself.”

“Excess profits,” cried the cow.

“Capitalist leech,” screamed the duck.

“I demand equal rights,” yelled the goose.

And the pig just grunted.

And they painted “unfair” picket signs and marched round and around the little red hen shouting obscenities.

When the government agent came, he said to the little red hen, “You must not be greedy.”

“But I earned the bread,” said the little red hen.

“Exactly,” said the agent. “That’s the wonderful free enterprise system. Anyone in the barnyard can earn as much as he wants. But under our modern government regulations productive workers must divide their products with the idle.”

And they lived happily ever after, including the little red hen, who smiled and clucked, “I am grateful, I am grateful.” But her neighbors wondered why she never again baked any more bread.

Aesop? Never heard of him.

I was teaching Gospel Essentials once, and the lesson was on provident living – preparing now for what is to come. I thought I’d introduce the lesson with The Ant and the Grasshopper. Nobody’d heard of it. I was surprised. I figured everybody knew it, though I couldn’t tell you if I know it because we read it in school or because I saw the 1934 animated short from Disney. (I always did like the happier renditions, where the ants have plenty laid up in store and can help the repentant grasshopper, who is now willing to somehow work for his food.)

So I started telling a quick version of it. “There’s an ant and a grasshopper. The ant is very industrious and hard-working, and all summer long, he works to store food for the winter. But the grasshopper is carefree and lazy, and he spends the summer just hopping around and playing his fiddle.”

The light comes on over one of the women in the class. “Oh! Like in A Bug’s Life!”

I have to admit, I hadn’t thought of that before. Ants… grasshoppers… food… yep, like A Bug’s Life.

Well, not exactly. But close enough to work.