Thank You

As we left to take our son to the airport this morning, I said I would need to focus on firewood this coming week.  What do you know? Manna from heaven had arrived with dew in the night!  At the corner of our property, which poor drivers tend to visit from time to time, firewood littered the roadside.  "I wonder if it'll be there when we get back," I said.

We forgot the gift until we returned and saw it waiting.  For whom?  Certainly the previous owner had noticed it sliding off his truck or bouncing out of sight.  Why didn't he stop to retrieve it?  Maybe his radio had been blaring and he didn't sense a thing.  Maybe he wrecked at the corner and abandoned his load (not likely, it wasn't a full load).  Maybe he stole it and when it slid off he was afraid a pursuer would catch him reloading.  Maybe he realized his truck was overtaxed, so he purposely lightened his load.

Enough hours had passed, so I decided to assume the firewood was abandoned, for whatever reason, that it was waiting for me or someone else, most likely me, because it rested on my land.  Still, as I threw it over the fence, I felt a tad guilty that some poor soul had met misfortune and I was abusing his trust by not saving it for him.

"Maybe he was the guy who drove through the fence a few years ago and left a pickup in the field," says Virginia, "and he was repaying you for the damage."

Exactly.  Or maybe someone else was leaving me an anonymous late Christmas present, and wouldn't he feel bad if I wrenched my back moving the firewood to our woodshed?  Maybe he'd been sawing up one of our trees and quickly departed when our lights turned on.  No, that would have been a bunch of trees -- a sycamore, a couple oaks.

"Right," says Virginia, "or maybe he'll be pounding your door tonight asking what happened to his stuff."

Exactly.  That's why I put it back where I found it.  Someone else can hassle the consequences.  (Did I really?)