Keeping Things in Perspective

I walked out of my mother-in-law’s house, climbed into my car and slammed the door shut. I was angry.

I’d stopped to help with some chores she needed done, only to be told that I didn’t fold her towels right, I used the wrong cleaner for her mirrors and I threw away perfectly good produce.

I sat in the quiet of the car and wondered why I even tried. I was already late for my daughter’s softball game. And I had to go home and finish my own work. I had completed the necessary chores, but all my mother-in-law could do was point out what I did wrong.

Then I remembered she had said she hadn’t slept well last night. That explained her stiff movements, irritated mood and complaining spirit.

I swallowed my hurt feelings, hopped out of the car and ran back inside. I found her sitting in her recliner. I picked up a quilt, laid it on her lap and knelt by her chair.

“Take a rest and don’t fret about dinner. I’m bringing you Mushroom Chicken. Your favorite.”

My mother-in-law smiled at me. “Thank you, honey.”