“Miss Jill, I have something that you are going to love!” Timmy said as he practically squirmed in the passenger seat.
“Oh yeah, Timmy what is it?” I glanced over at his gleaming eyes and perfect smile.
“I’m not tellin’ until we unload the hay!” Surely his secret was almost too much for him to contain.
I had put in a full day and now I was in over time. My fifty-three year old body was slowing down to a crawl. Timmy, nineteen years old, would be perpetually six or seven in his mind. He was slowed by his cognitive ability, but his glorious body was full of vigor and strength.
By the time he was a year old, he had open-heart surgery and his life was held in the balance between life and death. His resolve to grow maintained his life. Through the help of a glorious fat pony, he not only learned to walk, run, and eventually speak.
His love of the Lord was fostered by his mom and dad. Just being around Timmy makes one understand the Lord, because he is one of the purest humans I have ever gotten to meet. Timmy seeks one thing- to serve, especially me. I met Timmy five years ago. His mom wanted him to do equine therapy at my farm.
He came to fall in love with my biggest horse- a Friesian Cross, named Brutus. It is him that has carried Timmy over his first jump and a few canter strides. Timmy feels invincible when he is on Brutus. Timmy slowly crawled into my heart. He would do anything for “Miss Jill” and for that I am truly blessed.
Tonight after doing a million lessons and teaching at my high school all day, we have just driven a half-hour to a hay distribution center, and loaded twenty-five, seventy pound bales of hay into the back of my Nissan Titan. I have crawled on the back of the bed and as each bale hits the truck bed, Timmy and I wrestle the bales into a precise grid to secure them on the back of the truck. When you pay almost seven dollars a bale, you cannot afford to lose one on the road.
Our path takes us past the local McDonalds. Timmy says, “What are you thinking, Miss Jill?”
“Naughty thoughts Timmy!” I reach over and playfully slap his shoulder.
“I think we need to stop,” he says hopefully.
“Is a milkshake calling to you, because I know it is for me,” I say.
I tentatively pull into the parking lot, driving slower than a cotton-headed old woman that can’t see above the steering wheel. I tell Timmy we cannot do the drive thru because we are too fat to fit.
He giggles and tells me that he will go in and get me whatever I want. I decide on a chocolate milkshake. I hand over a ten dollar bill.
He returns ten arduous moments later. I have learned that when Timmy goes anywhere, he cannot help but think of everyone and he feels compelled to bring them something back. There have been too many times when I send Timmy on an errand to the local feed store, to find that he has bought a chocolate bar for all of his friends at the farm, his mom, sister, brother, and a coke for his dad. Therefore, I limit the money I give him. Ten dollars will surely be enough money for him.
He comes back with a creamy chocolate shake and an oreo-something-or-other for himself. He is gleaming and so proud of himself because unbeknownst to me he has gotten me a gift.
Fortified with ice cream and chocolaty goodness we make the last stretch home. He jumps up to the top of the truck which is probably twenty-five feet above the ground and beats his chest.
“I’m the king of the hay!” he holds his arms wide.
“Ok, king of the hay, get your minions off and into the barn!” he starts laughing hysterically at this and begins to push each one to the ground. We load the bales into the barn and Timmy stands back amused at his handiwork.
We feed the horses and I notice the clock says 8:30. I have been up since 3:30 in the morning and I suddenly feel content and worn out. Timmy is sustained by thoughts of my reaction at his “gift” that is still waiting for me.
We get back into the truck and it roars to life, and this is when Timmy begins to wrestle in his pleather wallet complete with a picture of a real cowboy. He pops out what looks like a French fry wrapper. In it is a McDonalds gift card.
“It’s fifteen dollars. I just knew you would love it!” he says to me.
“Timmy, how did you get this?” he never carries money on him.
“I had twenty dollars in my wallet and decided to get this for you,” he was so pleased with himself.
“Timmy, I will treasure this forever!”
“Yup, I knew you would love it!” Content and satisfied in blessing me, he sat back in the seat and stared out the window, trying to find deer in the fields as we drove to his home.
That’s my life, full of little blessings with a guy who is only satisfied when he blesses someone else. Why do I always learn so much from him?