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A Christmas Story

Last night, my husband and I were returning from a movie and he remembered he needed to stop at the grocery store before we went home.  On the drive, we had been talking about all sorts of things, including, or mostly, how fortunate we are and how grateful.  I said, We’ve been so lucky. As we stepped out of the car, Mark said, I’ve been thinking a lot about luck.  What does that mean exactly?

At that moment, we came up to the lady ringing the bell for the Salvation Army Christmas donation bucket.  We said hello and so did she and we began to chat while I searched around for my wallet. Mark asked her if she’d ever been robbed (who knows why) and she said, No, not doing this, but I was robbed when I worked in a convenience store years ago.  In fact, I was shot, and she went on to describe how the bullet went through her ear lobe and down her chest – she was lying on the floor – very near her heart and exited again a few inches lower.

I said, My, you were lucky.  She said, No, I was blessed.

And there was the answer to Mark’s question, What does luck mean exactly?

Was it coincidence or life lesson that we encountered that lady with her story at just that moment?  I guess you could look at it either way.  But I’m choosing to see it as a life lesson and to see myself as blessed.  I guess that’s what “lucky” means after all.

Merry Christmas.

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