One day, my mother-in-law decided to go to the bank.
Her gut told her, “No, don’t go today. Go tomorrow.”
She scoffed at her fears. What harm could come to a little old lady on a beautiful sunny day in a safe neighbourhood?
She donned her coat, put her purse over her arm, and set out at a brisk pace up the broad street. Strangers smiled at her. She stopped to say “Hello” to the neighbours and make friends with the newest kids on the block. My mom-in-law loved children. The friendly tellers paid her bills one-by-one and gave her cash in her specific denominations. You know how old people are about their money.
But still, her gut nagged at her.
Almost home, she got tired and walked a little slower.
Suddenly, a man ran up from behind her, brutally snatched her purse from her arm, and vanished.
She screamed and screamed.
Neighbours came running to help and comfort her. The police were called.
“How much money did they get, ma’am?” the nice young officer asked.
My mom-in-law stood stock still on the sidewalk. Then she laughed and laughed. The poor officer thought she’d been made hysterical by the violence done her.
Finally my mom-in-law pulled herself together.
“My gut warned me, so I put my money in my pocket. All the man got was an empty purse with a handkerchief in it!”
Has your gut talked to you? Did you listen?
© Joan Leacott 2012