Ping Pong in the Dining Room
One year at Christmas when our finances were in shambles, my husband, Hiromi, believed we could not afford even the smallest of Christmas gifts for our children. He had told me, and I began to try to think of ways we could provide good memories for the family in spite of not being able to buy gifts.
Hiromi's work environment at the time was not particularly pleasant. The boiler factory where he did the final testing on boilers was old, and its 85-year-old owner, who still came to work every day, understandably had no interest in making investments in the facility.
When the weather was hot, Hiromi had to fire the boilers as usual, and the temperature inside the building sometimes reached 115 degrees. When it was cold outside, the frigid air rushed in every time the huge overhead doors opened to bring in steel or move out a finished boiler, so he was seldom completely comfortable. All this discomfort might have been more bearable if the job had paid well, but it didn't. But this was the job the Lord had provided after a long search when Hiromi had been laid off from his job in clinical engineering at a hospital that eventually ended up in bankruptcy court. It was better than nothing.
While many of Hiromi's co-workers were hard-working, it was for the most part a group of people who struggled to get by on the wages they earned. One of them was Roy. He was elderly, but could not afford to quit working because his wife had health problems and she did not yet qualify for Medicare. So Roy continued to work so that the company's health insurance could help pay the medical bills. He confided this to Hiromi one day, and Hiromi sympathized. "I know how it is," he said, "I can't even afford to buy my boys anything for Christmas."
After a moment's silence and without a further word, Roy reached for his wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "Here, take this and buy something for your boys," he said quietly.
With that money, we purchased a table tennis set I had seen advertised. After this, we still had about a third of the money left. Thinking my part-time-auctioneer, part-time-builder brother might have some ideas, I asked him if he knew what the official ping pong table size was and whether he had any ideas about how we could make one. "I have several tables here I got once at a sale," he said. "I think I paid six dollars for each of them. One of those would be a lot better deal for you than trying to make one." Joy, joy!
At Christmas when we gave the boys their gift, we told them about Roy and Lowell and the kindness and provision of God that made possible the purchase of the ping pong table and equipment.
We all helped each other assemble the ping pong table over the top of the Ethan Allen dining room table, a purchase from Hiromi's wealthier single days. When we situated the whole assembly just right, the table extended through a wide opening into the living room. A buffet crowded in on one side, and the end of the wall dividing the living room and dining room nearly reached the table on the other. A little room was left at each end for the ping pong contestants to stand while playing the game. Scraping by the table without bumping into the wood stove in the living room or dislodging the clamp at the end of the net across the table was a bit of a challenge for me, but the table stayed for a long time that winter. We ate meals at one end of the table and had school there after the dishes were cleared away.
The boys played and played ping pong, and the Christmas joy lasted far into the dark days of winter.
God bless Roy, wherever he is.
Hiromi's work environment at the time was not particularly pleasant. The boiler factory where he did the final testing on boilers was old, and its 85-year-old owner, who still came to work every day, understandably had no interest in making investments in the facility.
When the weather was hot, Hiromi had to fire the boilers as usual, and the temperature inside the building sometimes reached 115 degrees. When it was cold outside, the frigid air rushed in every time the huge overhead doors opened to bring in steel or move out a finished boiler, so he was seldom completely comfortable. All this discomfort might have been more bearable if the job had paid well, but it didn't. But this was the job the Lord had provided after a long search when Hiromi had been laid off from his job in clinical engineering at a hospital that eventually ended up in bankruptcy court. It was better than nothing.
While many of Hiromi's co-workers were hard-working, it was for the most part a group of people who struggled to get by on the wages they earned. One of them was Roy. He was elderly, but could not afford to quit working because his wife had health problems and she did not yet qualify for Medicare. So Roy continued to work so that the company's health insurance could help pay the medical bills. He confided this to Hiromi one day, and Hiromi sympathized. "I know how it is," he said, "I can't even afford to buy my boys anything for Christmas."
After a moment's silence and without a further word, Roy reached for his wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "Here, take this and buy something for your boys," he said quietly.
With that money, we purchased a table tennis set I had seen advertised. After this, we still had about a third of the money left. Thinking my part-time-auctioneer, part-time-builder brother might have some ideas, I asked him if he knew what the official ping pong table size was and whether he had any ideas about how we could make one. "I have several tables here I got once at a sale," he said. "I think I paid six dollars for each of them. One of those would be a lot better deal for you than trying to make one." Joy, joy!
At Christmas when we gave the boys their gift, we told them about Roy and Lowell and the kindness and provision of God that made possible the purchase of the ping pong table and equipment.
We all helped each other assemble the ping pong table over the top of the Ethan Allen dining room table, a purchase from Hiromi's wealthier single days. When we situated the whole assembly just right, the table extended through a wide opening into the living room. A buffet crowded in on one side, and the end of the wall dividing the living room and dining room nearly reached the table on the other. A little room was left at each end for the ping pong contestants to stand while playing the game. Scraping by the table without bumping into the wood stove in the living room or dislodging the clamp at the end of the net across the table was a bit of a challenge for me, but the table stayed for a long time that winter. We ate meals at one end of the table and had school there after the dishes were cleared away.
The boys played and played ping pong, and the Christmas joy lasted far into the dark days of winter.
God bless Roy, wherever he is.
posted by Mrs. I at
10:43 PM
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