Like a Good Neighbor…State Farm is There

Like a Good Neighbor…State Farm is There

So, did ya ever have one of those days? You know, a day that you couldn’t have made up for the pure comical entertainment of your readers…a fictional experience that is really non-fiction?

Wednesday was one of those days for me. I’m still traumatized, only today can I finally write about it.

The day began like any lovely spring day…wake up, throw on some running clothes, get the kids ready for school, cook up a pan of delicious oatmeal and chase it down with some leaded coffee (unleaded a.k.a. decaf is a waste of time to me) and head out the door in the nick of time to get my little learners to their appropriate learning places.

But something in the cosmos must have shifted around 9:23am…

So, here’s the thing….My husband travels often, sometimes for up to a week at a time, sometimes overnight. He spent Tuesday night in Omaha and was due back in town after lunch. Our minivan was in the shop due to some transmission issues…so with the minivan on the skids, I was driving our little Subaru wagon to carpool, etc. (you’d be surprised how many kids you can pack in a four door with a hatchback.)

I have been trying to lose some weight (actually a lot of weight, but that’s for another blog) so I stopped at one of the parks in town with a beautiful lake and nice, wide path to run on for my daily run/walk. I am not one to lock vehicles….no one is going to bother my stuff, right?…but for some reason I chose to lock the Subaru–with the panic mode on. I put the remote transmitter on a carabiner and clasped it to the waistband of my shorts, safe and secure. Not quite.

I finished my run/walk thirty minutes and 6 songs later…only to find the remote was gone. My key for the Subaru, the garage door opener (for my locked house), my cell phone and my wallet were safely locked in the four door hatchback. It was 10:15 and I needed to pick up daughter #3 from preschool by 11:30. Peachy. I turned around and began to retrace my steps….quickly. The whole time I am trying to troubleshoot a very bad situation…no keys, no friends to call because I have none, no cell phone anyway–locked in the Subaru…and then it hit me.

A mere city block away was our State Farm agent. You know the song….like a good neighbor, State Farm is there. Hum it. After making it around the lake (again) I booked it to Chuck’s office and was greeted by smiling faces (eager to help) and a bottle of cold water with Chuck’s beaming face on it. I choked out my situation and before I could finish the receptionist was calmly dialing a locksmith. Chuck gave me his keys to pick up my dear daughter and I was off to preschool…on time!

Jimmy, the locksmith, got the Subaru unlocked about an hour later and brought the key to the State Farm office where daughter #3 and I had been waiting. Chuck wrote a check to pay for the locksmith and gave me a ride back to the park. Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.

Now this little ditty isn’t about State Farm or having great insurance coverage, it’s not about my crazy misfortune and it’s not even about locksmiths. It’s about gratitude.

Remember how I mentioned earlier the beautiful park, the lake…yada, yada. I love living here and I love our neighborhood, the park, the lake, our home, my job, the schools and teachers my children have, the friends my kids have made…so I am thankful. Very thankful. And as I was running, I was thanking God for all He has provided over the year since we have moved to Lincoln. Little did I know….

And I am thankful for Chuck, our State Farm agent who I picked out of a phone book, who when we met with him last year told us a story about how one of his insured had just purchased a new Lexus and as she headed back to Texas with it hit a deer in the dusk of the evening and then called him at home and he left his house in the middle of the night to help her and…well it was a great story, but I was pretty convinced I would never need Chuck to go to such lengths to help me…little did I know.

Chuck would say it was nothing. But to me, whose husband was 60 miles away, whose keys were locked in the Subaru with her wallet and cell phone, who is still new to town and has yet to make any real good friends, whose little daughter #3 who does not like to be picked up late…it was something. Because Chuck says what he means and means what he says I was able to get back into my car and continue with my day. And for Chuck and his word, Lord, I am thankful.