It's no secret I am a firm believer that ONE DAY I will win the first division in the lottery. When stuck in places waiting I will wile away the time imagining how I will spend my new found riches. It's lovely and distracting.
So sometimes I "invest" in a lottery ticket. The man at the store where I do this *Jim* will gravely debate with me the merits of the "best" draw to buy my ticket for. We'll discuss how I will spend my newfound wealth and how I won't let it change me AT ALL. He warmly wishes me luck and I usually depart clutching the golden ticket and knowing that this will be the week of my win.
Thus far no luck.
Jim is tireless in his calm and measured interaction with customers. In the years I've known him, he's never been anything less than sweet and encouraging.
In contrast when I have been unfortunate enough to buy my ticket when his wife *Jane* is in the store I am usually met with a haughty sniff of disdain, and certainly no good wishes.
On several occasions I have seen customers check their tickets to see if they have won. When they bemoan their winless state to her, her response is usually: "You're bloody lucky to be healthy. Stop whining!"
I'm serious.
*Jane* is without doubt the surliest, snappiest worst tempered woman I have met. In fact, I actively avoid buying my ticket on a Saturday and Sunday which is when she is there at the store. She yells at customers for having the incorrect change. I've seen her bite the heads off the unfortunate delivery guys and shout down the phone at the laundry service when dry-cleaning is late.
I distinctly recall after one encounter going home to my husband and saying I couldn't believe what an absolute cow she was.
Then a few weeks ago I was wandering around my local lake with three small children in tow.
Mr Small had long since abandoned any pretence of riding his bike so I was carrying him and his bike. I was also trying to shriek to my older to to: "STOP riding so far ahead of me. I need to see you AT ALL TIMES!"
So I barely noticed the woman pushing the wheelchair. But I heard her before I saw her. She was speaking in a sweet, cheerful tone pointing out all the things to be seen at the lake. It struck me guiltily at the time that I spent precious little time with my own crew making them appreciate their surroundings.
As I trudged past, I saw the woman pushing the wheelchair was *Jane*
I also saw the teenager in the wheelchair was both physically and mentally disabled.
It was one of THOSE moments. A moment where nothing and everything made sense.
This was a mother who spent her every weekday lovingly caring for her son.
This was a woman who spent her weekend working at the store.
This was a person who understood more clearly than most that being healthy is what matters.
Not winning the lottery.
And I haven't bought a ticket in weeks.
Because she's right.
I'm bloody lucky.