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- Chris Fabry
- Married to Andrea since 1982. We have 9 children together and none apart. Our dog's name is Tebow.
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Where We Are Now
After finding and remediating mold twice in our Colorado home, we abandoned ship in October 2008. Because of the high levels of exposure, our entire family was affected. After months of seeing different specialists for all of the problems, we came to Arizona to begin comprehensive treatment to rid our bodies of the toxic buildup. In August 2009 we moved into a larger home, four bedrooms, south of Tucson, north of Mexico. I am doing my daily radio program/ writing from that location. Thanks for praying for us. We really feel it.
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Friday, March 27, 2009
The other day I was at one of those warehouse places where you get the carts that will hold a small village. They're huge. My wife was pushing it around and the kids were all gathered beside her and since there was fighting and bickering I took them back to the car to wait.
It was like a duck going to water with all those ducklings behind. A few minutes later my wife called my cell phone and said she was exiting the building, so I plled up to the front, got out, unlocked the back, and like any good American Male I told her, you get in, I’ll care for this.
I unloaded the cart. And it would have been so easy just to leave the cart there by the building, but because of my penchant for putting carts where they belong, I could not do that. I scanned the parking lot for the nearest corral, walked to it and pushed it in. Just as I turned back to the car, I noticed an older gentleman coming toward me from the other way. He had on a nice, striped shirt and polyester pants and a pair of white tennis shoes that I’d seen inside the store, and they looked like he’d just put them on. He had those big Harry Caray-like sunglasses that you can put over your glasses that aren’t the best fashion statement, but they work. And I could tell by the lines in his face and the shuffling of his feet that he had pushed a bunch of carts in his day. He was pushing the cart with his left hand and he was tugging on a cane with his right, the kind with the four rubber feet on the bottom of it. And he was moving slowly.
Now this fellow was maybe 5 car lengths from me, the other direction from my car, and for a split second, I turned to go back to my car because I knew there was imminent nuclear war inside there if I didn’t get back. But something drew me, something turned me around to face this older gentlemen. And I took a few steps toward him, no more than 4 or 5, and I held out my hands and said, “I’ll take that for you.”
Now, I didn’t want to insult him because he was perfectly capable of getting that cart back into its place. But I thought, this might just save him a few steps, and it’s only a little thing, but I’ll help him out.
And the look on his face when I did that…was worth the price of admission. His mouth broke into this gap toothed smile and with one hand he gave the cart a little push and I grabbed the front of it and backed toward the corral. And he lifted his hand, a wrinkled, arthritis ridden hand, glanced up at my Ohio State baseball cap, gave me wave, and said, “Thanks, Buckeye.”
Just two words passed from him to me, but that was all I needed.
I pushed the carts together neatly and went back to the car. And as I pulled out of the parking lot and looked back, he was still walking with that cane. And I had this warm feeling that I had in some small way helped, but that even more than that, he had helped me.
I don’t know what had happened in his life. If he had served our country in the military…I wouldn’t doubt it. I don’t know if his wife was back in the car, if he had opened the door for her and closed it behind her. Or maybe he was traveling alone. I don’t know the hurts and the disappointments of his life. I don’t know if he had children. I don’t know if he went to church. I don’t know anything about him except that he recognized the Block O on my hat and that he was even more committed to the shopping cart return than I was, because if there was anyone on the planet who didn’t need to return a shopping cart to its corral, if there was ever anyone with a good excuse NOT to return the cart to its resting place, it was this gentleman. But there he was. And there I was.
And even if I tried, I don’t think I could get his smile out of my mind.
It was like a duck going to water with all those ducklings behind. A few minutes later my wife called my cell phone and said she was exiting the building, so I plled up to the front, got out, unlocked the back, and like any good American Male I told her, you get in, I’ll care for this.
I unloaded the cart. And it would have been so easy just to leave the cart there by the building, but because of my penchant for putting carts where they belong, I could not do that. I scanned the parking lot for the nearest corral, walked to it and pushed it in. Just as I turned back to the car, I noticed an older gentleman coming toward me from the other way. He had on a nice, striped shirt and polyester pants and a pair of white tennis shoes that I’d seen inside the store, and they looked like he’d just put them on. He had those big Harry Caray-like sunglasses that you can put over your glasses that aren’t the best fashion statement, but they work. And I could tell by the lines in his face and the shuffling of his feet that he had pushed a bunch of carts in his day. He was pushing the cart with his left hand and he was tugging on a cane with his right, the kind with the four rubber feet on the bottom of it. And he was moving slowly.
Now this fellow was maybe 5 car lengths from me, the other direction from my car, and for a split second, I turned to go back to my car because I knew there was imminent nuclear war inside there if I didn’t get back. But something drew me, something turned me around to face this older gentlemen. And I took a few steps toward him, no more than 4 or 5, and I held out my hands and said, “I’ll take that for you.”
Now, I didn’t want to insult him because he was perfectly capable of getting that cart back into its place. But I thought, this might just save him a few steps, and it’s only a little thing, but I’ll help him out.
And the look on his face when I did that…was worth the price of admission. His mouth broke into this gap toothed smile and with one hand he gave the cart a little push and I grabbed the front of it and backed toward the corral. And he lifted his hand, a wrinkled, arthritis ridden hand, glanced up at my Ohio State baseball cap, gave me wave, and said, “Thanks, Buckeye.”
Just two words passed from him to me, but that was all I needed.
I pushed the carts together neatly and went back to the car. And as I pulled out of the parking lot and looked back, he was still walking with that cane. And I had this warm feeling that I had in some small way helped, but that even more than that, he had helped me.
I don’t know what had happened in his life. If he had served our country in the military…I wouldn’t doubt it. I don’t know if his wife was back in the car, if he had opened the door for her and closed it behind her. Or maybe he was traveling alone. I don’t know the hurts and the disappointments of his life. I don’t know if he had children. I don’t know if he went to church. I don’t know anything about him except that he recognized the Block O on my hat and that he was even more committed to the shopping cart return than I was, because if there was anyone on the planet who didn’t need to return a shopping cart to its corral, if there was ever anyone with a good excuse NOT to return the cart to its resting place, it was this gentleman. But there he was. And there I was.
And even if I tried, I don’t think I could get his smile out of my mind.
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5 comments:
I'm listening to your show on Friday, the 27th, and couldn't get through on your phone line.
I feel the way you do on manners we show in store parking lots and always return my cart to the front of the store or the shopping cart corral located in the lot. I've even been known to park near a roving cart and take it into the store with me.
But this is one thought I wanted to pass along regarding shopping carts:
I'm engaged to a wonderful man in Canada so I've visited his home MANY times. A lot of the stores in Canada actually have a deposit system with shopping carts. You have to insert a Looney (their $1 coin) to get a cart out to use in the store. When you come out with your groceries and return the cart, then you can get your coin returned. They have little trouble having the carts stolen or vandalized because of this. Americans should be thankful we don't have that system and not take advantage of our liberties.... stores may resort to the deposit if we abuse it much longer.
One more thought: they also have a deposit system with any bottles and cans that are recyclable. A small deposit is charged when they purchase the merchandise (pop, beer, etc.) so it gives people more of an incentive to recycle to get their money back. A system that I think would be wonderful in the States. And because of this they don't have nearly the problem with littering of all the recycled materials.
Gotta run. Thank you for your show... enjoy listening. Keep up the good work.
In His Care,
Connie Anderson
Spokane, WA
The other day I was at an all black grocery store receiving many looks of distrust and worry. I just smiled and shopped. As I was in the checkout line, in front of me was a beautiful black woman great with child. I noticed she had several gallon jugs in her cart. I said, "Honey, you should not be lifting these." and pulled them out of her cart onto the conveyor. She was so surprised and smiled, giving me my first eye contact the whole trip. She thanked me and told her husband and the checkout guy what I had done for her. I was more blessed than she was.
Amen. I always push my cart back into the "buggy stall"...believingi it was/is my Christian duty as I serve my "living" God. Loved the lady who called in to say that the "woman who took her cart would be a Christian" ...and wanted to talk to her about Christ. Whoa...God works through EVERY menial thing we do...Nothing escapes the world...GOD IS ALIVE AND WORKING...even when we don't "have a clue".
Also love Andrea's hair. I am 61...a red-head who has also decided to "stop" chasing the gray hair every month. After all, I am who I am....a gracefully aging woman. :-) This decision came with nearly 2 years of "wrestling" with God on this. Could I be just as cute with gray hair???? Oh, what vanity...it should be the glory of God coming through...not my gorgeous red hair...but, I am grieving the loss of the red hair...that has been my identity for sooo long. So, I have come to the conclusion that I must decrease so He will increase....it is NOT about me...IT IS ALL ABOUT GOD.
I love you show. Listen daily.
I know about Detoxing...have just returned from my 6 month check-up...my 9cm femoral tumor is GONE....by all natural means....2 quarts of carrot juice/day....some therapudic essential oils...and eating 85% raw/15% cooked foods. All of this has detoxed my body...to where it is now "alkaline" instead of acid. Cancer feeds on toxins...remove the toxins...the cancer shrinks..goes away...all without cutting, poisening or burning...
Just check out the Hallelujah Acres web site for more testimonials regarding God's incredible healing body using the 85/15 rule on eating.
God bless you/Andrea/Children/and radio program
Esther Taylor in Wyoming, Iowa
I wanted to call on Friday but was on a tight schedule and only cell phone access. As a chronic shopping cart returner (I reason God will protect my car from other shopping carts if I put mine where it belongs), your subject immediately caught my attention so I sat and listened as long as I could.
The words that IMMEDIATELY came to mind were these: "Inasmuch as you have done it to one of the least of these, you have done it unto Me."
Someone else in the parking lot may have been watching you, and you set a high example.
I only listen occasionally but have been SO touched by what you and Andrea and the children have gone through. And in a way it seems unfair that you have had to endure that in order to learn what you have...but think of how many people have heard your story and learned; and then told others; and maybe they told others. I don't want to press the point too much, but I felt compelled to say that.
God bless you for your life, your work and your willingness to let others in on your life; and we can all learn and grow together.
Thank you for sharing this both On Air and here. Another amazing reminder of how we pilgrims should act even in the most menial humble tasks.
Wow, revel in the fact that such a 'random' meeting of two souls was in fact - orchestrated by our Lord just so that you would share it with us across the nation.
This reminds me of one time helping out someone at a gas station one night with his car that he was restoring many months ago and just recently found out that he is a believer whose daughter goes to my church's youth group. One never knows what God is orchestrating behind the scenes.
Thank you brother for sharing your life with us.