Checklist Charlie
Giving the gift of mercifulness
CATHY KRAFVE

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie welcomes all comments and lists at CAEKrafve2@aol.com.

Every woman knows that the best presents come in a tiny box.

Mercy is that way.

It is the small daily mercies that fill our hearts with wonder.

"He still loves me even though my bank account is overdrawn again. She puts up with my football addiction year after year. I forgot to call and thank her mom for the sweater. Again."

We're amazed that our spouse finds us worthy of such patience.

"My parents really love me even though that dent I put in the SUV will cost a small fortune to repair. Mom bought a new cake plate when I left hers at the party."

If we're lucky enough to have great parents, we are awestruck by their forbearance.

"My brother didn't punch me when he found out that all his fish died because I forgot to feed them while he was at camp last summer. My sister let me borrow her other favorite dress even after I ripped the hem out of the one."

As we become adults, we realize what a prize loving siblings can be.

"I have a friend who is always there for me, even when I'm sick of myself. My friend loves me enough to speak the truth."

These are daily thoughts expressing the wonder that mercy inspires.

When we receive mercy, it feels better than a million bucks. Not that I would know what a million bucks feels like.

I was reminded how easy it is to short-circuit the process of mercy recently when I called to schedule a car repair.

"Cathy, I'm so glad to hear from you. We were worried when you didn't show up for your last appointment," said the person on the other end of the line. His voice was full of compassion and forgiveness. I knew he was prepared to make me feel better about my mistake.

What mistake?

How could I forget an appointment I had no memory of? (Ironic, isn't it?)

"Oh no, I didn't have an appointment," I responded in bewilderment.

"It's okay, we had a really full day anyway. Remember, we were scheduled to fix your.?" (Sorry, readers, I can't remember the name of the thing they were supposed to fix. This is why it is important for me to have really good folks helping me with my car, like my friend Butch.)

"Oh no, I would have called to cancel. I would have written it in my calendar. Are you sure that it wasn't a miscommunication between you and the service department?"

If all else fails, shift the blame, right?

He gracefully moved on to the business at hand.

A week went by while we waited for the new part to arrive.

Then, one day, out of the blue, a fresh breeze blew gently through the space that used to hold my brain. In a flash a memory resurfaced, a vague recollection about a date with no calendar handy at that moment. Oops.

"I'm calling to apologize for not one, but two things.

First, I'm sorry I stood you guys up. Second, I'm sorry I argued with you about it."

And the process was restored.

He got to say all the comforting, gracious things he intended to say in the first place weeks earlier. I got to receive a small gift of mercy.

Not a bad day's work when you think about it.

Oh, and when I took my car in later that week, it happened to be on a day when Joel was cooking breakfast, so they fed me, too.

Okay, if you take your car to Lade Ford in Frankston, you probably recognize James Lade.

Not only did James give me the gift of a little mercy, he also waited patiently while I sorted out my memory issues.

That gave me a chance to think through the process of how we offer mercy and how we receive it.

Plus, I got a topic out of the experience just in time for a post- Christmas column.

That's really three or four gifts, kind of like the boxes that are individually wrapped and then stacked and tied together with a big, bright bow.

Mercy. A beautiful gift, wrapped in small daily experiences, and appropriate for any occasion.