The Boxes

by Kay Heitsch 

It wasn't long after the "For Sale" sign went up on our front yard that they started arriving in our mailbox; postcards. Each one asked to provide service for our impending move. As I sorted through the array of cards, I selected three and called the first number. A man answered the phone and stated that he would be happy to come out and give me a free estimate. He explained that he was planning to go out of town for the weekend to come the following week. We set the appointment, and I called the other two numbers. 

The next week at the time agreed upon, he arrived. He introduced himself as Roger. As he walked through our four-bedroom home, he calculated everything on a handheld computer with all the extras. When he finished, he handed me the printed estimate. Then he told me that to help save money on boxes; I could call down to his office and ask if anyone had turned in their used boxes. He said if anyone did, those boxes would be free for the taking. Little did he know that saving money on boxes was exactly what we needed. Moving was nothing new for us. We had moved many times in the 27 years my husband; Bill, was with his former company. We had lived in 4 different states. But now Bill was not with this company anymore and we were paying for this move ourselves. 

Our family had been through a lot over the years. The worst being the death of our 16-year-old son, Todd, in a car accident. I'd witnessed God bring triumph out of tragedy through his death. I had even written Dr. Norman V. Peale about some of these triumphs a few years before. When Roger was about to leave, I told him I wanted to give him something for coming out. He was surprised when I handed him the book "Have A Great Day-Everyday!" written by Dr. Peale. I told him about Todd's accident, and I explained the special meaning this book had for me.* Roger thanked me and said his wife was a big fan of Dr. Peale's, and he knew she was going to love this book. Roger went on to say that the weekend trip he had been on was with his wife. He said she had just found out she had cancer. As Roger walked out the door, he said, "I know God sent me here today." 

I had not forgotten Roger's offer of the used boxes, so I called every few days to check to see if any had been turned in. Although the office girls were pleasant, the answer was always the same, "Sorry, we do not have any used boxes at this time." The days seemed to be flying by. I kept calling asking about the used boxes, but still, the answer was the same, "No boxes." 

When Todd died, I had been given an insight. I told myself I never wanted to forget it. The insight is that what mattered in life were two things: our relationship with God and our relationship with others. I had not forgotten this insight, so as the day of our move came closer, I wanted to go back to the town where Todd had spent his last days of life. I'd made many close and personal relationships with the people there. I would be moving to another state and may not see them for a long time, if ever. 

Bill had started a new job in our home state of Michigan. He was staying with his folks until we could be moved. He called and said, "Have you started packing yet?" Well, no, I hadn't; in fact, I didn't even have any boxes. I told Bill that I was heading to Dover for the weekend to visit, and I was sure that God would have the boxes ready when I came back. Bill was less than enthusiastic about my trip, but he didn't put up too much of a fuss. It was wonderful going back to Dover and seeing friends again. There was a sadness, too, not knowing if I would ever see them again. With the IMPORTANT job done, I headed home, ready to start packing. 

On Monday I called about the boxes. "No boxes" was still the answer. I called our church secretary, Jennifer, and suggested I go around behind stores and look in dumpsters for boxes. "Oh, this is just great!" I thought. It's only been raining for days now. Just what I want-soggy boxes. "Lord, you need to help me here!" 

The following day I called bright and early in the morning. Much to my surprise, a man answered the phone instead of the usual girls. When I asked about boxes, he said, "Yes, we did get some boxes back." I told him I would be right down to pick them up. I called Brandon, my youngest son, and told him to get ready; we would get our boxes. I was so relieved that I wouldn't have to go through dumpsters for boxes. 

When I walked into the front office, I could finally put a face to the voices I had talked to so often. When I told the girls, who I was and that I had come to pick up the used boxes, they looked at each other with wonder. The girls said they had no idea what was going on, as they did not have any used boxes that they knew of. They suggested I go downstairs and see the man down there. When I got downstairs, much to my surprise, there was Roger, the man who had given me the estimate. He remembered me and asked why I was there. I explained to him what was going on. Roger told me to go outside and pull around to the warehouse. 

As I got out of the van at the warehouse, a man walked out on the loading dock. He asked if I was the lady who had called about the used boxes. When I told him I was, he said, "I'm sorry, I'm the man who answered the phone. We did have boxes, but now they're gone." My heart sank. Roger was walking up overhearing the conversation, and immediately he said, "Yes, we do have boxes for her." The man on the dock started to tell the story again when Roger interrupted, "I want you to give her all the NEW boxes, tape, and packing materials she will need for her move, on us. I also want you to make sure she has the best men we have to make her move. I want this to be the best job we've ever done." 

I was SHOCKED. I didn't know what to say or do. I stammered out an expression of gratitude through my tears and gave Roger a big hug. After that, he walked away. As the man on the dock looked up what I would need on the computer, he looked at me and said, "Who are you? How do you know Roger?" I told him I wasn't anyone special; I honestly didn't know Roger except that he had come out to our home to estimate the move. With a look of puzzlement on his face, he said, "Are you sure? Roger doesn't go out to homes and give estimates; he's the owner of the company." I answered, "Well, he came out and took the estimate on moving us." 

There was no way that Roger could have known how much we needed this gift of boxes after looking at the home we lived in, but he offered them anyway. God had everything worked out, right down to the number of boxes that were needed. I believe it was a Divine connection that brought Roger, who didn't make house calls, to our home that day. When Roger said, "I know God sent me here today," I knew he was right. *A letter that I wrote about my son, Todd, is written as the Introduction in "Have a Great Day Everyday!" on Page 8. This book may be ordered from The Peale Center 66 East Main Street Pauling, NY 12564 (1.866.713.7278)