on being robbed and kind strangers.

Our car got broken into last week. We noticed it when we climbed into the car to go to church. It was a weird feeling.

I wasn't mad or anything. We lost a GPS, a couple random cords/power outlet things we use to charge phones or iPods in the our car, and the large envelope with a Christmas gift I was going to send to my sister-in-law, who will miss family Christmas this year because she is serving a mission for our church in Portugal. I was the saddest to lose the gift envelope, which held a journal I'd worked on for several weeks, and a little gift that Gracie had made herself. That kind of hurt my heart, to think of Gracie's little present being discarded. The rest of it didn't bother me--it's just money, you know? We can buy anything else back. We can't buy that little Christmas tree doorknob hanger back. But she can make a new one, and that is a gift, too, I guess.

The thing that I keep coming back to, is that I can't understand the mentality of someone who would just take something like that from someone else. I mean, I know they weren't thinking "Oh this is some poor lonely missionary's Christmas gift." They were just thinking there was probably something good to sell inside that envelope. The quote I inked in on the first page of the joirnal tucked inside it is from Matthew 10: 29-31:

29. Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.

30.  But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

31. Fear ye not, therefore. Ye are of more value than many sparrows. 

I kind of hoped that whoever stole it read that. I think it would be nice, if you were that sad and desperate, to be reminded that no matter the state of your life, you are God's child.

You are of more value than many sparrows.

Since I can't have it, and Jess can't have it, I hope that somehow it did some good.

So that was that. But it wasn't the thing I will remember about these past two weeks.

One morning a couple weeks ago we woke up to ROAD CLOSED signs and huge construction equipment (Charlie calls them "big trucks") pulling asphalt off our street. For the past several days men have been all over our blocked-off road, digging holes, laying new pipes and huge sewer things (no idea what they are), drilling, digging, filling, and making a lot of noise.

They have been so nice.

They could very well have shut down our road and made us park on side streets, but instead they have been incredibly helpful. I've had them come to my door and ask if I'd like to move my car before it got blocked in the driveway. I've had them stop their huge machinery and move it out of the way so I could pick up my little girl from preschool, or get out of their equipment to help me back out of the driveway without hitting the ditches in the road. They've filled in spots in front of each driveway on the street so we can all get in and out. They will pause to wave and honk their horns at Charlie as he stands on the porch in awe at how they "dig" or "play in the street" with their "big trucks." And on Saturday when they brought out a huge hose to clean all the dirt off the street, they washed our car. I almost cried. It was just so incredibly thoughtful.

It has been inconvenient to walk two houses down to get into our car and to have noise and craziness and muddy shoes, but I will be really sad to see these construction workers and their "big trucks" go. Here they are working until after dark in the cold and sometimes in the rain, and yet they are constantly aware of the people in the warm houses around them and what might make our lives a little easier. They get it, and I am so thankful for them.

Merry Christmas.