Peanut Butter, Jam, Marshmallow Sandwiches

Today, I took a walk up to campus with the kids to go and visit their dad while he did his homework.  We usually just drop in and say hello and then go to the park or go back home.   On nights like this it is the only time josh sees his children, a brief hello, a hug and a kiss and we are gone again. Having left a little bit late, the boys were hungry by the time we started to head back home.  I decided to stop by the BYU bookstore to get a little snack from the little grocery store inside.  After perusing all of our options, we finally decided on a tuna sandwich, a peanut butter, jam and marshmallow sandwich, some chips for us and dad, and one York mint patty for me (my favorite!).  We were standing in line when a young man behind us commented on our peanut butter, jam, and marshmallow sandwich ( I can't remember what, but it was funny/nice).  Nonetheless, feeling a little chagrined for buying junk for my kids, I smiled and told him that, yes, I had bought this sandwich for my son, but first he had to eat half of the tuna sandwich... it is one of my rules to eat something healthy before you have junk.  I then confessed my guilt (I am sure he didn't care but sometimes my mouth keeps going even when I tell it to stop :) about being a bad mom buying bad food for their dinner.  The whole conversation was done with humor... but I can't remember exactly what was said. Trying to comfort me he said that it was a lot better then what he was eating, donuts and strawberry milk.  He was hoping it would carry him through his test. Right. Pretty soon the guy behind us had joined in the conversation too and we were all laughing/smiling over the idea that my children would be here one day and doing the exact same thing... you know it starts with a peanut butter, jam, and marshmallow sandwich and then before you know it donuts and ice cream for dinner! (But at least the sandwich was on whole wheat bread right!?)

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By that time it was my turn to pay.  I handed the cashier my card and said, "This isn't my card, it is my husbands... but here is my driver's licence"... I loose mine all the time and for some reason Josh trusts me with his. :)  No one has ever bothered me about it at all the other stores I frequent so, I didn't imagine it would be important this time.  For some reason, in this place they would NOT accept it at ALL ( and I can understand why).  It is so embarrassing to be at the head of the line, rejected and denied, your un bought groceries looking dismally, tauntingly back at you. As we were heading out Asher started crying... not tantrum crying... but hunger crying... "Mom, I am hungry! Where is my marshmallow sandwich?"...only adding to the embarrassment and sadness of the situation... Trying to alliviate the tenseness I told the guy behind me, with a smile (at least I hope it was a smile)... "Well, now you can have the sandwich instead of the donuts!"... We left as quickly as possible because Asher was hungry and expressing his hunger with waterworks.  Normally, when he is crying, yelling or throwing a tantrum I stop and explain the situation before moving on but this time I just wanted out and away from all the staring eyes.  As we were walking back to Josh's building, to see if he would come and buy the sandwich for Asher,  I heard footsteps coming behind me and someone threw the PBJM Sandwich on top of our stroller... and a voice said,  "here... here is your peanut butter sandwich!" The young man behind us had bought the sandwich, ran after us, thrown it on top of the stroller and then took off running (before we could stop him).. Turning around, I yelled a thank you and found to my surprise that my voice was choked up from keeping the tears back.  He just smiled and waved and kept on running to go and take his test.


In this moment, I felt loved by God.  Not only because someone listened to their heart and served us so graciously, sacrificing time and money so a little boy wouldn't be hungry and so a tired mom could have a fed and happy child, but also because I felt it was God's love for us (all His children) that spurred the action.  If we hadn't had the sandwich we would have survived the night, we would have navigated the sadness and found a way to feed the children.  In the eternal scheme of things a peanut butter, jam, and marshmallow sandwich isn't that big of a deal.  To me, though, this is what is so beautiful.  Heavenly Father probably didn't care about who had the sandwich, but He did care about my son, and He cared about me and all my little mom worries and with a small token act of service, through the hands of one of God's children, our lives were blessed.  Even if it is just knowing that God does care, even about the small details of our lives, this was blessing enough.