SEASHELL NELL

This is my Camino. Welcome.

On the goodness of God

(Reposting from Facebook, with the promise that I’ll update with another post soon!)

Do you want to hear a story about the goodness of God? Soooo what had happened was, I am renting a lil cottage in Canada for the weekend, just to do some art and writing. Before I left this morning, I called the bank to be all, “Friends, I am traveling to Canada, por favor, I need to be able to make international purchases, please open my card accordingly.” (Pro tip: always do this before traveling). (Pro tip 2: never use my bank). My dad was also like, “Hey, do you want some Canadian $?” Because, being from Detroit, we all know we all have a few Canadian dollars somewhere, and he had fifteen of those Canadian dollars. I also took an American $20 (and I should have taken more, I know, I’ve traveled before, don’t judge me. I’m literally just over the bridge for 2 days).

So, the Bridge fee is just under $5 CA and I buy myself a froyo when I arrive (frozen treat of the summer, 1/2) and now I have $4 CA, but no big, right? I still have my debit and I need to buy food for the next 2 days. I hit up the local grocery and my total is $27.86. (Food is pricey in Canada, really I just bought pasta stuff and salad). I give the lady my card. Declined. We try two more times. Declined again. She lets me try on a different register: declined again. Ya’ll I have $4 Canadian and I need to make it over that Bridge again on Monday. I ask if they have an ATM, there is one a quarter-mile away, I have walked to the store, and the grocery closes in a half hour. Also, the only other food I have taken with me are a few servings of instant oatmeal. I’m hungry, fam, and I have no food. I run to the ATM: declined again (again, don’t use my bank). Now the *very kind* grocery-clerk let me keep my groceries at the store, in a pile, so I walk all the way back to be like, “All I have is this $20 US, do you take American?” and BLESS HER she says she will, also, the exchange rate will be better. (The very kind man behind me is all, “That’s worth like $100 Canadian” which is a BOLD-FACED LIE but it made me feel better, may his children and his children’s children know blessings). With the exchange rate and the $20 I still need to pay $3.60, which I do, with the $4 CA in my pocket. So now, at least, I have food.

I start the walk back to my cottage. Thing is, I need to make it over the Bridge on Monday. Your girl is tryna be resourceful. I’m all, “Is there any money in my car?” But, no, I cleaned out my car last weekend. I’m all, “Maybe I could make a lemonade stand???” But, I HAVE NO MONEY TO BUY LEMONS, FRIENDS. I don’t even have a piece of cardboard to make a cardboard sign like, “Help me get over the border for real, I’m stuck,” so I start praying to God like, “God, please provide for me. I need to be able to go home,” and you know I’m like, “Maybe I can sell my extra food to the neighbor?” (By the way, his name is “Derrick” he’s an artist from Scotland, he helped me when the renter-people of the cottage gave me the wrong key-code and I was stranded outside and he was all, “Don’t worry, love, we’ll get you inside” in a comforting Scottish brogue and, when we did get in, gave an open invite to have a glass of wine with him later tonight I DIGRESS I AM STRANDED IN CANADA), so, here I was all praying a prayer again and again that was like, “Imma need you to provide for me this weekend, God, I’m going to need $4 CA,” and I’m like, “Can I return bottles for ten cents? Oh, shoot, that’s only in Michigan,” and WHAT DO YOU KNOW, there, on the sidewalk…a crisp, colorful $5 CA bill. Right there. Like it was waiting for me. Like God Himself dropped it right where I would see it. DO YOU KNOW HOW BIG CANADA IS? WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU FOUND $5 ON THE HIGHWAY? TELL ME WHEN. I will tell you. It was when I had no other way to get home and the God of sparrows and hairs-on-head was like, “I got you, boo.”
So, anyway, he’s the best.

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Say hello to the lunch/ dinner/ lunch/ dinner I had for those days: tossed salad and pasta, baby. 

 

 

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