Sunday evening observations.

It was Sunday night, after all and our little girl’s friend’s family were going to Dairy Queen after church. Nothing strange about that, after church trips to town for snackies are quite a common practice in our household, after all dad needed the gas cans filled for gas for the truck. She and dad stopped at home to pick up the cans and mom before the anticipated ice cream blizzard for her and some hot food for dad and mom. The lights seemed a little dim at DQ as we pulled up past some friends sitting and enjoying their evening time snack. The waitress walked to and fro across the parking lot delivering orders to hungry costumers while we waited, watching the lady in the car next to us video her dog eating an ice cream treat. No worries, this is America and American dogs, or at least some enjoy a trip to DQ for ice cream. Or, at least the friends, I should say the dog lover friends, on social media will enjoy it. Maybe a few will be horrified because you are NOT to feed people food to furry creatures with wagging tails, but the Border Collie was enjoying it! And we waited for the nice lady to take our order, but she did not come. It was then we noticed that nine was the closing time and that was already history, the waitress was going home. We had already had the disappointment of meeting our little ladies friends on the way home while we were still anticipating our arrival. I guess they were lucky, and we were not. After motoring to the far side of town to second choice it became apparent that would have to be enjoyed another day. Through the windows we could see the construction crew busily working like a hive of busy bees. The sign read, “Closed for construction, come see us July 15!” After a few more turns and minutes to the other end of the town, as well as some convincing to the 8 year old to save Cold Stone Creamery for another time, we settled ourselves at Sonic. This is America.
Then, oh yes, the gas cans.
The sign on the service station read, “Fresh, Fast, and Friendly,” and the gas pump slowly counted numbers. I wondered what had happened to it’s RPM gauge but that was okay, it gave me time to read the signs and see the 10 pm crowd entering and exiting the friendly, establishment. A young boy of around 9 with his red haired little brother, a young girl talking to what appeared to be her father as she headed in for the latest treats, the man at the pump behind me looking at me with a indecisive look as he entered and exited the station. Once again this is America.
What really I was thinking was about observation of what is happening around us. What if I was a reporter looking for something to write about? It seems the possibilities are endless if you just look around. And all these people? They have a soul, they are all loved by God, they all have a story. What are they saying about me? Are they seeing peace? Frustration? Hope? Hurry? Patience? Would they want to be like me? Do they wonder like I wonder, where we go when we go home at night and lay down to rest? We have so much to be thankful for, let’s never forget.
And yes, we did go home, and it was a beautiful evening.