When we first purchased Grandma's Playhouse, we had scarcely been there a week when I looked at the lawn in dismay and proclaimed that we needed to mow the lawn post haste. We had this moment as we looked at each other and realized that we did not have a lawn mower to use. I lamented at how stupid we were, to buy a house when we didn't even have a lawn mower to keep up on it!
Scott suggested that he could probably borrow one from someone, and I thought about asking my parents to bring theirs up for us. After a few days of pondering our dilemma, a friend of mine showed up with her lawn mower, recently topped off with gas and casually said that they didn't need theirs for a week or so if we would like to borrow it.
Wow.
Grateful for that blessing, we hastily mowed our lawn not once, but twice in a week. Then my friend showed up again and gathered up her lawn mower and trucked it home so she could attend to her own lawn.
Thankful for the time she had bought us, I started scouring sales websites to find a used lawn mower. As I was mentioning my findings to Scotland one day, he brightly replied that we did not need to buy a lawn mower, as someone had offered an old broken down one that we could have. My husband, the optimist, was sure that he could fix whatever was wrong with it and that we would have a fully functioning lawn mower by the end of the week.
I was not so sure.
But one day, I came home from work to find a little gray lawn mower in the garage. When Scotland got home, I watched as he washed it off, filled it with gasoline and started it up. I gleefully clapped my hands as he mowed the front lawn in perfectly straight lines. We had a lawn mower, not old or broken down as we had been led to believe, but absolutely perfect. We can't even find anything wrong with it. Those sweet people had given us a wonderful lawn mower, one that we probably would have insisted on paying for if they had not claimed it was broken down.
What a blessing.
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