Don't be ungrateful for hidden favors

Harold grumbled when the alarm clock rang late. If there was a God, he thought, the alarm would never malfunction. Stupid clock. New one, too. But not made in America.
If the clock had rung on time, though, Harold would have missed a very important phone call --- the job interview appointment he had been hoping for.
After he hung up, he rushed to his driveway. Harold glared at the driver of the blue car across the street. Each morning that rude driver blasted his horn for five long minutes. If there was a God, this driver would have ignition problems weekly, Harold thought.
What he didn't know was that on this fall morning, the honking had frightened away a thief who was about to break into Harold's garage and steal his generator and mountain bike.
At work, Harold grimaced as Marsha the Chatterer cornered him in the corridor. Marsha began to bore him to death with tales of her aunt's latest illness.
If there was a God, Marsha would have been transferred to another department ages ago, Harold groaned to himself. What he didn't know was that the gross description of her aunt's cancer included the very information that three years later would help him save his brother's life.
Harold groused at airline ticket prices. He was too late for a decent rate. If there was a God, a good ticket price would be available, and he'd spend Thanksgiving with family. What he didn't know was that his dreaded brother-in-law would be a drop-in visitor, and that "Thanksgiving with family" would have been four days of heated arguing over the merits of tea-tree oil, hummus and Vitamin E.
Harold gritted his teeth as the office do-gooders passed the plate for a co-worker's going away gift. He hated forced charities. The co-worker wasn't someone he liked, and the office would be a cheerier place without him. Still, Harold couldn't be the only holdout.
If there was a God, Harold thought, the guy would have suddenly left, sparing office drudges the meaningless ritual of plate-passing.
What he didn't know was that the five-dollar shortage in his wallet meant he would not go to Burger Bayou that afternoon. Had he gone to Burger Bayou, he would have met Dinah, dated her, married her, been betrayed by her and later destroyed by her. He would not have met and married the terrific woman who really would become his wife in two years.
On his way home, Harold gasped at the price of gas. He was sure there was a conspiracy somewhere. If there was a God, Harold would be driving a sporty hybrid vehicle instead of his junker station wagon. He could only afford a few gallons.
What he didn't know was that if he'd filled his tank and left for the city that weekend, he would have contracted a lingering case of the flu at his favorite hot spot, developed pneumonia and missed Thanksgiving altogether --- spending more on medical bills than it would cost to fill his tank three times.
Harold griped at the chilly weather. It was too cold to clear leaves from his rain gutters, and it was too dry for any outdoor fun. He'd have to spend all weekend indoors, and he hated that. If there was a God, he thought, he wouldn't be home on a Saturday watching TV.
What he didn't know was that the top rung on his old ladder was defective, and if he had used the ladder on such a windy day to clean rain gutters he would have broken his arm and cracked his skull. Harold growled at Thanksgiving.
If there was a God, surely Harold would be able to get to work on time, he'd be free of honking drivers, he'd be able to bypass chattering ninnies, he'd be left out of office charity pools, he'd be able to afford the price of gas, he'd be able to visit family on holidays and he'd have clear rain gutters. Was that too much to ask?
And as he lugged three heavy bags of cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie and frozen turkey breast into his heated house, he wondered what there possibly was to be thankful about.

Donna Marmorstein 2005