My favorite memory about a worker coming to the house is one from many years ago. Don was away –at sea yet again- and we lived in military housing. As is par for the course when he was away our refrigerator went out. As any military wife will attest, most
appliances break within days of the spouse departing. So the repairman shows up
and busies himself with the task of fixing the fridge. I was hard at work trying to keep our kids out of his way. All three were under four at the time and very interested in the goings on within the fridge.
The guy worked for most of the morning making the repairs and finally resuscitates the wayward beast. As he was packing up he hesitated, looked almost embarrassed by his impending question, and then finally said what was on his mind. “Ma’am can I buy you and the kids some food?”
The question startled me but then he explained how it was none of his business but he saw, while he was working on the appliance, that I didn’t have any meat in the fridge. I smiled, thanked him profusely then took him to our breakfast nook, where we kept our
deep freezer, which was fully stocked with food. I will never forget the offered
generosity of that kind stranger.