Dumpster Diving

Who? Cherice

What? Taking out the trash

When? 12:30 a.m.

Where? Dumpster in the parking lot of my apartment complex

Why? Someone stopping by to drop something off the next morning, wanted the stinky trash smell in the apartment to dissipate before then. ;-)

How? Tossed the trash into the dumpster with such gusto that my keys caught in the handles of the bag and dropped right in with the trash!

So what? Everyone was asleep (or at least their lights were out), and although my sliding glass door was open, I couldn't get up onto my balcony to get back into my apartment and retrieve a magnet and a flashlight so I could get the keys out myself.

Then what? By leaning half-way into the dumpster, I managed to fish the trash bag out with the one and only stick I could find (because the grounds are so well-maintained). Unfortunately, the keys had not fallen into the bottom of the bag. I looked back into the dumpster and saw them gleaming at the bottom where I couldn't reach them.

Now what? I thought about standing on the trash bag, which would have given me just enough height to get into the dumpster, but I was worried about getting stuck in the dumpster and not being able to get myself out. (Plus, the thought of getting in there with who knows what trash, mold, or creepy crawlies was NOT appealing!) I considered going into the woods that border the parking lot to find a big stick, but given my recent encounters with skunks, woodchucks, and the likelihood of poison ivy, I quickly abandoned that option. I finally prayed that someone would appear to help me (maybe someone coming home late from an event of some sort), or that I would figure out some way to get them out. I wandered around the parking lot one more time (feeling sorry for myself and thinking about having to spend the night on the porch or something). Suddenly, I saw a long stick that I do not recall seeing before. It was just barely long enough to allow me to reach the keys (if I stood on the trash bag I had just retrieved, which I did). Needless to say, I was very relieved, and offered a silent prayer of gratitude.

Ironically, the lesson I was supposed to give to the 3-year-olds in Nursery today was about prayer. There is something very powerful about teaching from personal experience (along with the help of a finger puppet they named Matilda and a few props--like my keys and a trash can). I don't know if the children got the point of the story or not (I can pray to my Heavenly Father anytime, anywhere, when I need help), but they were quite enthralled by my story!