“Are you planning on buying mulch this year?” my mom asked me one afternoon.
Every spring, after the pollen stops falling from the trees, I spread mulch around the trees and plants in my front yard. But I hadn’t bought any yet, even though the little green twigs had stopped falling days ago. I’d been watching my budget carefully, and as much as I loved my landscaping, it took a backseat to other things I needed to take care of. “I just can’t afford it. The Lord will just have to dump it in my yard,” I joked.
Later that week I came home from work, greeted by my very enthusiastic Pomeranian and went to change into some more comfortable clothes. I had just stepped back into the hallway when the doorbell rang. That’s odd, I thought. No one ever came to my door at this hour. To be safe, I checked through the blinds to see who was there.
Parked on the street outside my house was a large yellow dump truck, with a driver sitting inside. Standing at the door was a man I’d never seen before. I opened up cautiously, completely puzzled.
“Sorry to disturb you, Ma’am,” the man said, “but would you be interested in some pine bark mulch?”
“Well, yes,” I said, taken aback. “But I can’t really spend any money right now.”
“Ma’am, it’s easier for me to give it to you than to figure out what to do with it,” the man said. “This mulch is free.”
I stared in awe as the man helped his partner back the dump truck into the center of my yard. The rear of the truck slowly lifted, and the mulch slid out like a landslide.
Leftover mulch from an earlier delivery? The men didn’t say. But I sure know who guided them to my place.
