The early bird catches the worm

Boxing Day morning. 7am. I'm awake.

I get up and dressed and decide to pick up the newspapers for my son's newspaper round.

I wrap up and head out on foot to the local shop. It's 7.30am and still dark. It's also pretty cold. I am enjoying the fresh air on my cheeks, slightly annoyed at myself for not adding a few more layers and gloves before I headed out, but it won't take long and I'm determined to have a good day today.

I also feel quietly smug that while most of the neighbourhood is sleeping off most likely an indulgent Christmas Day, here I am starting early with a healthy fresh brisk walk and a good deed for my son.

The shop is closed. It doesn't open until 8am.

Oh.

What do I choose to do in that moment?

My first thoughts are angry.

All my good intentions scuppered at the first moment? That's not fair! And it's too cold. I'll go home, failing at my first mission for the day. My whole day will unravel from this point. Bah humbug!

But I've learned through Mussar, and Viktor Fankl that there's always a choice in how to react.

So I try again.

I notice next door to the Co-op, the Starbucks lights are on and the door is ajar. Christmas opening times: 7:30 am.

Fantastic.

I walk in and order myself a coffee.

The two ladies working is there are friendly and we chat. I comment that they probably don't have many customers coming this early on Boxing Day. One of the ladies replies that maybe people will be going into town early for the Boxing Day sales.

Ah brilliant, I think. I have twenty minutes to look online, in the warmth, with a coffee, for a dress for an upcoming family occasion. I sit down thinking how much better this day is panning out now.

Within ten minutes, I have checked out with a couple of options for the party. I am feeling so good. I thank the ladies in Starbucks. I wish them a good day and head over to pick up the newspapers.

It is just before 8 and the door is still locked. A car pulls up outside and a lady asks me what time the shop is going to open. I reply that it's imminent and we begin chatting. She invites me to sit in her car whilst we wait for the doors to open. She's a lovely local lady, a carer for both her son with special needs and her ailing mother. She also tell me she works a job and shares some wisdom with me about her approach to life and accepting all the challenges we are presented with. It is a beautiful morning reflection and I feel a soulful connection with her.

Five minutes later and we are both in the store queueing with our items and sharing pleasantries with the co-op staff member on duty. He apologises for opening up late and we exchange a glance that acknowledges that we wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Having finally picked up the newspapers, the sun is now rising, the streets are getting slightly busier and it's still bitingly cold.

The final gift of my morning is the beautiful sunrise that awaits me over Soldiers Field as I deliver to my son's loyal customer.

I breathe it in, take a photo and thank God, creation and other humans for what is already turning out to be a beautiful day.