It continues to amaze me at the incredible love shown to my family.  It’s been 18 months since Lisa died, folks don’t have to continue to support.  Some still do because they just know it’s hard.

Not only have our closest friends stood beside us, but acquaintances as well.

Lisa’s fingernails were always impeccable and her toenails too.  She spent a lot of time at a nearby “spa” swapping gossip and being pampered.  I was glad.  I appreciated a woman who looked refined.

What I didn’t know was how much it cost!  On Friday when the girls returned from camp, I let them head to Lisa’s nail salon with specific instructions on what they could do.  DJ and Stephanie wanted a pedicure and to get their fingernails painted.  Apparently there is a difference in just painting your nails and a manicure.  I thought that a manicure was painting your nails.  But a manicure, I’ve learned, is painting your nails plus $18 of other stuff.  Michelle had permission for fingernail painting only (she had just done her nails with her Nana the week before).

When they called me to pick them up, I went inside to pay.  The woman at the counter rang up my bill.  I looked at the list of prices on the wall; she’d been generous.  When I asked where to write the tip on the receipt, she said, “No.  No tip from you.  Our treat.” 

She knew Lisa.  She knows my mother-in-law.  She wants to help me raise these girls.  And she’s doing it by giving her time and the time of her employees tip free. 

It really touched me.

And today we went for the bi-annual dance gear roundup.  Apparently you can’t wear toe shoes for years on end.  Those boogers wear out – I’m not sure what happens.  DJ’s shoes look fine to me – they’re pink and pretty and there’s still a piece of wood in the bottom.  But they apparently lose their spring or something.  The lady at the dance store told me most dancers go through two or more pair a year.  I told her we were changing to tap.

After an hour in the store collecting tights for two, several new ballet slippers (you can’t wear toe shoes in regular ballet class – what’s up with that???), jazz shoes, the toes and the lambs wool you stick between your toe and the wood so you don’t mess up your pedicure, we headed to the check out counter.  The woman who owns the store started ringing things up.  She pulled out a toe guard and told DJ how to use it.  “It should keep your toe from hurting so bad honey,” she tossed it in the bag for free.  She also gave us a deal – the full prices I was adding up in my head were not equivalent to the amount charged to my credit card.

I looked at the woman, “You know I couldn’t do this without you.”

“I do,” she smiled.

“If it weren’t for you, my kids would dance naked.”

She nodded.

Why did these two women take an inordinate amount of time with us?  Why did they invest and why did they give us a discount?

I think I know. 

They’re just really, really good people.  They’re doing God’s work in their day-to-day lives.  And I have to tell you, their love for my family makes a difference.  If we’d all just give a little of ourselves, right where we are, the world would be a much better place.