The last week of August was the week I would go camping when I was growing up. One incident that happened when I was about twelve years old is another testimony to God’s providence.
It was a cool morning when we awoke at our campsite. The dew twinkled on the short grass and the tall weeds. It was the day to head home, and we had used up most of our food. It was before the days of ATM’s, and Dad’s wallet was empty. It was not a worry, though. We had enough gas to make the 2-3 hour drive home.
My parents took one last walk along the beach before packing up all of our gear. Sticking out of a pile of sand, Mom spotted one half of a ten-dollar bill. It was a little damp, so she was careful not to tear it.
We went on our way. It was time for a bathroom break and lunch, so we stopped at a roadside picnic area near Blyth, Ontario. We ate our leftover food and were ready to go.
“Oh, no,” said Dad, “Where are the keys?”
After discussing it, we realized the keys must have been locked in the trunk. Since Mom didn’t have a driver’s license, she didn’t carry a second set.
An older man in a car stopped to use the portable washroom, so Dad asked for a ride into town to get a tow truck. About half an hour later, a man in a truck came with Dad in the passenger seat. He knew just what to do. He removed the back seat and pulled things out from the trunk until we heard the jingle of keys.
“Thank you so much!” Dad said to the man. “How much do I owe you?”
“Ten dollars,” the man replied.
Mom pulled out the bill she found at the beach, and we each went our separate ways.