A Thanksgiving Miracle

The Thanksgiving Miracle

I dedicate this to my old roommate, who will never read this, and more importantly never know he gave me my Thanksgiving miracle. This was written last year, a few days after it happened... and to this day, I hold this experience close to my heart. Since I wrote it, I have not edited or revised it beyond name changes (to keep those involved anonymous) and spelling errors. 

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November 22, 2011 was a day just like any other. I was up late the night before and had to wake up early for class, which of course meant being exhausted all day, and more importantly, not getting (nearly) enough beauty sleep. So by default I knew when I woke up Tuesday morning that I would be tired and somewhat lazy; thinking about nothing but being able to go to my apartment and take a nap before my OCF (Orthodox Christian Fellowship) meeting.

            As predicted, my day was nothing more than average. I went to my video production class, and to say the least, being tired and hungry made for a not so happy Kentboy. I kept myself focused on what was going on in class by reminding myself that I’m doing what I’m doing so that (God willing) I can glorify Him in my career; Glory Him in my “vocation,” as said at Camp Nazareth the past two summers.

            Class ended and all I could think about was naptime! I got to my apartment, went to my room and slept. I slept... and slept... and slept... for hours. My dreams were of majestic stallions in green pastures, of angels singing, and nothing less of perfection and deliciousness. Then, all of a sudden, I started dreaming of violence, anger and profanity. Ugly things invaded my dreams and I knew I had to wake up.

            It was about 5:40pm when I woke from my sleep and about 3.5 hours had gone by. I woke to the sound of my roommate swearing like a sailor. Every other word was the f-bomb, not to mention, directed at his friends and parents over the phone. Living with this person since August, nothing he said or did ever surprised me. It’s difficult as an Orthodox Christian to say, but he’s the kind of person who is easy to belittle simply because of the stupid things he does and the things he says. I suppose I should say that it’s easy to cast judgment on him.

            For the sake of this article, I’m going to call my roommate Jeffery. To give you an idea of what he’s like, Jeffery cooks, works out, studies, has fun with friends and always says “please” and “thank you.” Jeffery also trashes the kitchen and never cleans his mess when he cooks. Jeffery works out twice a day and walks around in his underwear because he’s in love with himself and incredibly ripped abs. Jeffery studies and leaves books everywhere; he has fun with his friends by getting high, drunk and screwing everything with legs (forgive my language). And, “please” and “thank you” are just words to get his way when he wants or needs something. In short, I can’t stand him, but I keep it to myself.

            So now you know everything you need to about Jeffery. As I was saying, I woke up from my glorious nap to the sounds of Jeffery screaming and yelling at his parents and his friends. He was throwing the f-word around like candy at a parade. Clearly he was upset and frustrated about something due to his language, not to mention hearing him throw and hit things. I thought to myself, “Really? Is this really necessary? Chill out.” I wanted to tell him to shut up and get over his issues. But I didn’t. I stayed in my room and bit my tongue, staying quiet as if I was still sleeping. I put myself on a pedestal and thought of him being such a pathetic/lowlife person. (Lord have mercy on me a sinner).

            At around 5:50pm (ten minutes after waking up) I got a call from my other roommate (I’ll call him John). John asked where I was so I told him I was in my room and had just woken up. He said okay and hung up the phone. Not even a minute later I got a knock on my door. So I got my dupa out of bed and opened the door. It was Jeffery, standing there with his coat, gloves, scarf and suitcase. He said to me, “I’m sorry to wake you up man. My bus leaves the station in 15 minutes and you’re the only person who’s still in Kent with a car. Can you please give me a ride? I’ll give you gas money -whatever you need.” I’ve never heard him so calm and yet so full of desperate energy.

            I looked at him and tried to buy time to think of an excuse to say no. I couldn’t think of one. I just felt bad for him...in the wrong way. To me, I didn’t care about his problems. After all, all he does is annoy me. Why should I help him? I’m not his personal taxi. With little enthusiasm and deep hesitation I said, “Yeah, I’ll take you. But I have no gas in my car.” He told me he’d pay for the gas. So I got dressed and we left. Talk about unwanted pressure, I had 15 minutes to get him to the bus station and the drive takes over 20 minutes, plus the time to put ten dollars of gas in my car. To say the least, Jeffery was upset, I was irritated and ­­I sure wasn’t in the mood for kindness or favors.

            As I’m driving to the Greyhound bus station to drop him off  he’s still mumbling the f-word and other profanities under his breath. I didn’t appreciate it one bit, so once again I just kept the nasty thoughts about him to myself. When we arrived at the station, I pulled up to the curb; he got out and said, “Thanks man. Have a good one.”  Verbally I said, “you too,” but was thinking something more along the lines of, “yeah...whatever.” So he went on his way and I went on mine, leaving the station to go to my apartment and get ready for OCF.

            I was halfway back to Kent from Akron and traffic was heavy. I got a call from Jeffery. “Hello,” I said. “Hey man, can you come back and get me? I missed the bus.” With even more irritation and frustration, I told him I would, so I moved over 3 lanes in thick traffic and went back to get him. Still, my heart wasn’t in the right place, but I went back anyway.

        As I pulled into the station I called him to let him know I was there. I pulled up to where I dropped him off and he got in the car. I asked, “What will you do now?” “I don’t know,” he said. So I drove around the entire station and as I was pulling out of the station he noticed a MegaBus that was pulling out. Out of pure desperation, he jumped out of the car and ran for his life to flag down the driver to stop the bus. The bus stopped and the driver opened the door. It was going to where Jeffery needed to go. So Jeffery ran back to the car, grabbed his luggage and sprinted back to the bus. He got on and started his trip home for Thanksgiving.

        In that moment I started to weep. My heart was suddenly at peace. I felt like God was holding me in his arms. See, I had a revelation, a glance into what humility is. I experienced being able to do kind for others who will never do kind for me. I did something for somebody with no expectations of getting anything in return. I experienced what it’s like to be a decent person; how to act like a Christian.

            I got out of bed, wore cold/wetwet shoes (it had been raining all day and my shoes were cold and soaked), broke the law to speed so I could get him to the bus station on time, I sat in heavy traffic to get home and totally went out of my way to turn around to go back to the bus station to pick him up, only for him to get back out of my car, get on a bus and start his journey home.
            Through this experience I had the chance to take a baby step toward being a better and more loving individual. God blessed me with an amazing family and wonderful friends. He gave me the most beautiful Christian faith to be part of. Through my Thanksgiving Miracle I’m in love with God so much more. I’m in love with my family so much more. And I’m in love with my friends. Most importantly, I’m learning to love my enemies. And to that I say, Glory to Jesus Christ!˙