Teapot, Biscuits, and Bo Rounds

My eighty-six year old father lives with my family. We have a special bond, my dad and I. Because of his work, he was often around during the day and he used that time to teach me to read, and take me on adventures in his old Chevy pickup. He still has a great sense of humor, and a clear, sharp mind. And I think I would do just about anything for him, no questions asked. 

Last night as I left work, I called him to see if he wanted me to pick anything up for him on my way home. He mentioned he had a prescription waiting, and then he paused. . . . "Hungry, Dad?" I asked. "Well, I could eat," he answered. "Steak biscuit and Bo rounds?" I giggled back. "That would be great, honey. Be safe coming home." 

Be safe coming home. I'm a fifty-one year old mother of two adult children and one teen child. I've traveled to twenty five states, Canada and Mexico some  with and some without my husband. I've been a single mom for weeks at a time when my husband was working, but my dad still admonishes me to "be safe." I didn't always appreciate it, but now I love to hear it.

I ordered his food at the drive through, and had to pull forward and wait for a few minutes for the Bo rounds. As I sat there I watched a young shirtless, black man carrying a basketball come down the sidewalk and walk to the store entrance near where I waited. I smiled as he put down the basketball and began to put on his shirt, thought nothing of it and looked back down at the phone in my hand. 

Then I heard his voice, "Ma'am, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but I'm not from Greenville." "Be safe" my dad said in my head. The young man continued "I'm from Baltimore, and I've been here only a couple of days and I have a job lined up tomorrow." I smiled back still thinking about "being safe." "Ma'am, if this makes you uncomfortable that's fine . . . but I'm hungry and I don't have much money left." 

Dad's voice said "Be safe" and God's voice said "You are safe." And I thought of angels unaware and my own kids and the cash in my pocket. "I won't hurt you, ma'am." "I know, son. I serve Christ. You can't hurt me unless He allows it." What was I saying? What would my dad say? That young man smiled a brilliant smile as I handed him a five dollar bill. He looked as surprised as I felt. We chatted for a minute. He told me he had come to Greenville to find a job because there was nothing back home. He was starting work at a nearby company the next day, and he was the same age as my oldest child. 

The server brought out my dad's food at that time. I waved goodbye to the young man, and watched him go to the counter and begin ordering his food. I was safe. Safe in the knowledge that God has me in His hands. Safe knowing that God had used me to help someone. Now, I won't make a practice of going around handing out money to strangers, but this was a time and a place when God granted me complete peace and comfort so that I could help a stranger in need. I made my way safely to the pharmacy, and then safely home.

And my dad smiled when I handed him the steak biscuit and Bo rounds. And he smiled when I told him about the young man. And we both smiled as Dad reminded me that God does protect us so that we can serve Him without fear. 


Either later today, or first thing tomorrow, I'll continue with Broken Teapot, part two. But for now, friends, be safe. 


In Him,
Teapotjan