Two Arms

While shopping yesterday for the elusive small white iron chair for my front porch I saw something that impacted me.  There sitting among the patio furniture was a man with no arms.  He didn't just have one arm missing, no he had both arms missing--and he wasn't wearing prosthetics either.  He had a blank expression on his face.  Not sad, not mad, not resentful, just blank.  I wish I knew what he was thinking.  But, maybe it's better that I don't.  I didn't even realize how the sight of him had been imprinted on my brain until this morning.  When I was getting ready for the day.

I always start with a couple of cups of coffee.  We have a semi-professional machine, we are addicts so coffee is a food group to us.  I need only to push a button and voila, coffee beans are measured, ground, brewed and dispensed in my cup before I can say--huh?

And then it dawned on me.  What if I had no arms?  What if I couldn't push that coffee button all on my own?  And so, the morning went that way for me.  The what if's came rolling in.  Questions flooded my brain. How would I do this or that?  And for the first time that I can ever remember I thanked God for my two arms.  And I also began to pray for the man with no arms.

It's funny--I hated my arms until this morning.  Even when I was thin I hated them.  They've always been muscular and now that I'm older they're flabby.  My fault really--but it didn't keep me from hating them.  Until this morning.  And now I love my arms.  I can do all sorts of things by myself--shower, put on makeup, dry my hair, get dressed, drive a car, pet my dog, sweep--little things that I wasn't even aware of before.  Like typing on my computer.   I am so in love with these two arms!  I can button, snap, type, point, hold things, hug, drive, clean, dress, there are endless possibilities.

I don't even want to think about a life with no arms.  I just want to thank God for the two I have.