The Gumball Machine

Normally, I would post the title as "So and So's Story". The writer of today's story has requested that I keep them anonymous. So I will respectfully do so.

Today's story shows just how big of an impact one seemingly small act of kindness can have on a person. Never pass up an opportunity. 

"I am worthless. I am not loved. I am not important."

These all too common lies that had been creeping into my mind were finally taking their toll. I sat on my bed, contemplating my life. There was nobody I could trust. Friends came and went, they never cared or stayed for long. God felt a million miles away. What did He care about my life, anyway? It was pointless, worthless, nothing. Nobody even cared about me. Whether I died or lived, life around me would go on the same. Feelings had disappeared. All I could feel was nothing--bitter, lonely nothing. All I wanted was to feel something.

I laid on my bed, fully planning to take up the knife and force myself to feel something. I was so desperate. So sunken into the pit of depression. I even contemplated ending my life...yet my misery was so strong, I didn't even want to do that. It sounds like an oxymoron, but it's how I felt.

I glanced around my room. My eyes suddenly fell on an old gadget I kept on my bookshelf-a mini gumball machine.

Now, ordinarily, a gumball machine wouldn't have meant squat to me. But I looked at it.. and a sweet memory flooded my brain.

2005. A bunch of my friends and I went on a bike ride. We all came back to my house for hot dogs and ice cream. While the hot dogs were cooking, we decided to rummage around the basement just to pass the time. Somebody picked up the gumball machine and said something to the effect of "cool!!" I sadly explained that it was broken, had been broken for some time. They set it down, and I didn't give it another thought for another hour or two.

There is a guy who we will call "Bob" [original, right?], who has been a friend of mine for quite a few years. He always has and always will have a special place in my heart, for various reasons I don't need to delve into. Bob is a somewhat quiet, reserved guy, and isn't much of one to take initiative or do kind acts without prompting.

That day, however, a few hours after introducing it to my friends, he came up to me, handed me the gumball machine with a shy look on his face, and told me that he'd fixed it.

I don't know how much time he spent working on it. I don't know if it was a complex matter or a simple task. It doesn't really matter. All I know is that he took the time to fix it, completely unprompted, because he knew it was special to me.

He did it because he cared about me. [And I mean this in the most innocent, friendly way.]

So, back to the current time. This all came back to me in a manner of seconds...and for the first time in several days, I felt an emotion. I smiled a genuine smile. That memory of a kind act of friendship reminded me that there was still hope. That there was always hope. That people, and more importantly, God, did truly care about me.

And this show of friendship, five years later, saved me from a road which leads to death.

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