Mercy

Well, today's Saturday, which means I'm an entire day late for Five Minute Friday, but it's a little challenging to type a blog entry on your smartphone and since that's the only Internet access I had on Friday, I'm showing up on Saturday and I'm writing. This week's word prompt is mercy.


Mercy is not something that comes naturally or easily to me. Criticism? Check. Judgment? Fight it every day. High expectations? Well, what others may call "high," I call "realistic," but let's not split hairs. The fact is that I don't think "merciful" is the first adjective people would use to describe me. I'm working on it, I'm working on it and I have many examples of merciful people in my life.

The one that comes to mind right now is Fred. Fred runs a sporting goods store in the rural county where we have a cabin. The shop used to have gas pumps where we'd fill up our boat before heading to the lake, but it became too expensive for Fred and his parents so they shut them down. We started buying wood from Fred probably a decade ago and that's been our only interaction with Fred every year or two.

Earlier this year we ordered wood from Fred and guaranteed him that we'd meet him at the cabin with payment. Our schedules changed and we completely forgot about the wood delivery until we saw a missed call from Fred on the phone. Ugh. We felt terrible. We couldn't get Fred on the phone, but the next time we were at the cabin, we found the wood delivered as promised and I hightailed it to the store to pay Fred. Full of apologies, I handed over what we owed him and Fred? Fred showed us mercy. Because that's how Fred rolls. "That's OK," he said. "I knew you'd be up soon and stop by to pay me. It's no problem."

And while the price of a load of wood may not make or break most people's budget, it's likely pretty important to Fred. Business is slow in the area and at his little store. He looked gaunt when I paid him and we later found out he's battled leukemia. This weekend, we learned that he buried his father three weeks ago.

But his word and a handshake and a little bit of mercy is how Fred does business. No contract for a deal, no angry phone call or penalty when you're late for payment. Just peace and mercy.

We bought more wood from Fred this weekend. We weren't sure if our trailer was roadworthy because it had been sitting for a number of years, but we told Fred if it was, we'd be back for the wood. My husband was on his way when Fred called and said, "You know, I was thinking maybe you'd need air in your trailer's tires." My husband affirmed he was headed to the gas station before meeting Fred. "No problem," Fred said. "I can take care of it here. Just come on down." When our trailer was filled with wood and there was still half a load left, Fred shut his store early (despite my husband's protests) and delivered the wood to our cabin.

Thanks, Fred, for showing me what mercy looks like and how much the small mercies can mean. You inspire me.