A good impression......Not

Martha and I hadn't seen each other in twenty-five years.  She remembered me as a goof ball in school who made others laugh during class.  I remembered her as a perfect girl, but one who had a low threshold of laughter. 

 I would entertain those around me with various objects just below the table where the teacher couldn't see.  Hey, I was bored!  It really wasn't that funny!  They must have been bored also.  And, for some reason, my friends were always getting in to trouble for laughing.  They never reported me as the culprit.  Perhaps they were to ashamed to tell that what they had laughed at was so trivial. 

 After twenty-five years, a person should forget that, right?  She didn't !  She recalled the two little plastic dogs I'd carry in my pencil case and the antics they would perform.  My youthful pranks still lived on in her memory!  But, as I prepared for this visit, I determined to show her I had grown up, had children, and had become a very mature person.

 During part of our time together, we visited a nearby area that has lots of Amish shops.  One stop was an older home that had been made into a fabric and novelty store.  My daughter and Martha went on ahead of me and were in the downstairs part when I came in.  Because Amish do not use electricity, the stairs were pretty dark.  It didn't help any that there was a very dark, heavy set of curtains at the bottom. These were there to keep some of the heat downstairs.  In this darkness I did not see the yellow tape on one of the steps, marking it as more shallow than the rest.  I missed that step and went flying through mid-air.  There was no railing and I flailed in every direction to grab hold of something.  The drapes were my only salvation.  But, they only served as a rope to swing me right into the room like a monkey.  As if that weren't enough, I landed on a table piled with bolts of fabric.  On impact, the bolts flew off the table and I sat there stunned.  Worse yet, Martha and Heather were right there facing my direction, and saw the whole thing.

 Now, my daughter is somewhat (in a disgusted way) used to these things.  She often says, "Hey, that's my mom.  She does things like that!"  Martha, on the other hand, was immediately out of control with laughter and found the quickest way out.

 Heather  helped me gather up the bolts of fabric and put them back.  As for the curtains, there was little I could do to remedy that.  Although the rod had not broken, it was in a sharp "V" shape with the curtains cowering in the middle. 

 We made a small purchase from the Amish girl who couldn't seem to take her enlarged eyes off me.  When Heather and I got back to the van, we found Martha still sobbing with laughter.  Our men, who had been waiting in the van, implored us to give a speedy explanation as to what had happened.  I lamely said, "Hey, I fell and Martha thinks it's funny."  This remark sent Martha into more gales of laughter.  My husband said Martha came out and crossed the street weeping so hard she could hardly walk or talk.  As they tried to pump her with "Where's Twila and Heather? "  she only sobbed more and couldn't answer.  Seeing her crying so hard, they began to feel we had come to some serious harm.  Only as they started to get out of the van and my husband asked, "Are they alright?"  She managed to squeak out, "They're ok," and went on sobbing.  It wasn't until sometime later I got the vision of how that had to look in Martha and the Amish girl's eyes.  Everything is peaceful and quiet.  Suddenly this woman--a size 18 isn't really that small--comes swinging in on a curtain and lands on a table of fabric bolts.  Yes, had that been someone else, I'd be laughing too.  So much for proving I was no longer that high school class clown!  There was no comparison! Being and artist, I drew up a cartoon of the act and sent it to Martha some months later.  She told me she has kept in in her Bible for years, and said any time she needs a lift, she takes it out, looks at it and weeps with laughter all over again.  At my expense, I guess she gets a drop of oil now and then that keeps her machinery running smothly.

 A drop of oil:  Have you ever had times when just a little laughter has helped to lighten your load?  One such time occurred when our daughter was in college.  She had come home one weekend totally devastated.  Some unfortunate circumstances had happened and some people she had trusted, proved not to be true friends.  She lay across my bed that evening telling me all about it.  I reached over and took a book off the night stand and said, "Heather, Lois loaned me this book, saying it might help in times like this.  I guess it's really funny!"

Heather responded, "Nothing, and I mean nothing could make me laugh tonight."

I said, "Oh well, I'll read some of it anyway," and commenced to read aloud. 
I don't remember the title or the author, but that dear lady had some of the funniest things happen to her.  She had bothered to put them into print and now we could relate to some them.  As I read, we were soon slapping the bed and laughing till the tears ran. 

 No, it didn't change the situation any, didn't fix any problems, but it did lift our spirits.  At the time, I said, "Perhaps that's why so many unusual things have happened to me.  I can tell them to someone else and as they laugh at my experiences, it will be a drop of oil in their machinery. 

Alright Lord, I accept who You have made me to be.  Maybe that unusual, embarrassing episode will help someone under a load.  Possibly some dear lady can find a little humor in those  events I clearly didn't plan.  I do accept being a drop of oil for You, Lord.  But must I really be the whole can?