the little space heater

OR The Gift That Keeps On Giving


Waking up in a 55 degree Fahrenheit house makes one grateful for a few things.

First, shelter tops the list. If the house was that cold, you can bet it was significantly colder outside the protection of walls. Second, blankets. Without nice, warm blankets, we could not have slept through the night as soundly--or at all. Third, a working furnace. It's amazing how much we take for granted until it is no longer at our beck and call.

Last, but certainly not the only other thing I have become keenly thankful for since my furnace broke down, this little heater that my parents gave me around fifteen years ago. As you can well see, it's junky and old--even is jalopy-looking enough to possibly be broken. However, looks can be deceiving...

Long story short--we thought the furnace was fixed, but it decided to stop working again in the middle of the night, and so I thought of the little space heater my parents handed down to me since they didn't need it anymore, turned it on in the hallway between my children's rooms, and prayed it would keep them warm enough until morning.

And it worked.

I never thought that a funky junky, old little heater like this one could be such a Godsend, but it certainly proved its worth last night. Thank you once again, Mom and Dad, for kicking down all your old stuff to me. You were and always will be the best.

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