Here are a few of my angels who have granted me tender mercies.
The Cashier at the Commissary (military grocery store) who seeing my screaming children and knowing that my husband was deployed to Iraq, packaged my groceries in such a way that all the refrigerated and frozen foods were bagged together so I only had to get those specific bags out of the car when I got home. That way I could later retrieve the non perishable ones once my children had calmed down.
The woman in the Commissary (Seeing a theme here? It was years before my kids didn’t scream all the way through the grocery store.), who went and bought a package of animal crackers and then brought it to my screaming children. You didn’t judge. You didn’t make snide remarks. You didn’t give me unasked for advice (which wouldn’t have helped because D has autism and wellmeaning advice rarely works). You saw a need and you just helped.
The acquaintance who walked into the craft store and saw that D was having a massive autism meltdown as we checked out and you just walked up to me and hugged me. You didn’t say anything, you just walked away. You have no idea how much that meant to me.
A very dear friend who recognizing that I was dealing with severe anxiety attacks would show up and clean my house, and bring me dinner. She would also, despite having children of her own, take D as a baby and play with him during one of the meetings at church so that I got something out of the day.
Teachers who have gone out of their way time and time again to help my kids, make them feel special and that they are smart.
My husband who when I reach that wall and I cannot go any further, see’s it, picks up the pieces, pushes us forward while helping me into bed so I can face a new day.