My very first car was a 1950’s Ford Fairlane which was about to reach that great used car lot in the sky. I didn’t have to drive more than three miles a day to take my children to school.  When it finally did give up the ghost, we had to push it out of the driveway so a tow truck could carry it to its final resting place.

Next came my snappy, black Monte Carlo.  Snappy because it as a definite step up from the first.  I needed something more reliable since I had become a Tupperware salesperson and had to put on a lot more miles.  With that car, I learned how to start a dead car by sticking a pencil in the carburetor.  I was able to drive it without knowing that it had a broken tie rod. Once more, proof of a guardian angel. While on my way to a Tupperware party, Old Monty breathed his last on a very long bridge. A kind gentleman stopped to help.  When I told him my situation, he offered to take me to my destination with all my products.  I could then phone my husband and have him call a tow truck. This was long before cell phones. Did I mention, money was tight at this time. I could’ve been kidnapped but instead took a chance.  The man offered to sell me some of the frozen meat he was purveying from his trunk.  I declined but managed to get in a pitch for my own product.  I told him I had some wonderful containers for storing things like frozen meat. I could’ve been placing my life in the hands of a serial killer, but my protective armor was definitely covering me.

I finally graduated to a newer car.  A Jeep.  This had been my husband’s car before me, so I knew it was well cared for.  While driving it one day, with a bevy of children, the stick shift came out as I downshifted to make a turn.  Again, my guardian angel was at the ready.  I rammed the stick back into place and continued on.

I eventually got my first very own, brand-new car when I became a Tupperware manager. The Ford station wagon was perfect for carrying loads of products to my parties and for delivery of said products to awaiting customers. The first day I got that new car, I was so excited. My own car and it was new. Because I was used to driving a Jeep, this big old station wagon was a little wider than I anticipated and I scraped the whole driver’s side on the cement barrier which divided the highway. The car was replaced. Talk about regrettable and embarrassing.

I haven’t possessed many cars. When we were wealthy for a short time in our marriage, I inherited my husband’s red Camaro convertible and then moved on to a family sized van which carried us on a few fun cross-country vacations. From the van, I went to a little red Pontiac Sunbird, which I purchased all by myself. After paying it off, it too went to the scrap yard.

I’d grown used to driving my own car. Without one I was stuck. My son had a five speed, shift on the floor, 2001 Saturn coupe, which had been sitting idle for a couple years. This car was a gift from my son. Talk about family coming to the rescue. What a blessing it’s turned out to be. It’s an older model, but it only has 150,000 miles on it and it gets me where I need to go. Two years ago, it breathed its last and we became a one vehicle family. It was just the two of us by that time. I’m still driving it. I hope it hangs in there for the rest of my life. Talk about the car driven by a little old lady. The mileage alone is amazing, but like me, it’s still kicking!

THANK YOU, JESUS FOR ANOTHER DAY