Proof The Bible Is True

Sunday night at the laundromat. It was a huge inconvenience, especially with Christmas just a few weeks away. But my dryer was on the blink. I’d washed my clothes at home, and then transported them in plastic bags to finish the job here.

 

As I loaded the dryers—one for towels, a second for jeans and another for delicates—I caught sight of one of the machines below the three I was using. Spinning around together to the backdrop of the evening news were tube socks and a child’s party dress.

 

They don’t belong in the same dryer and I certainly don’t belong here, I thought.

 

After I sacrificed my quarters to the hulking machines, I headed over to the magazine stand for a distraction. Nearby a young man and woman shook out linens as they removed them from the dryer. Their baby napped in her pink stroller while they worked. The couple stretched a king-size flat sheet between them and moved toward one another. As their hands met to make the first fold, I heard myself say, “There’s something so romantic about a couple folding clothes together.”

 

I hadn’t meant to talk out loud. I didn’t even know these people. What must have run through their heads? The woman gave a shy smile, and her husband chuckled sort of nervously. They finished their folding and left.

 

I’ll never see them again, I decided. And thank goodness! Who wanted to hear random comments from a busybody?

 

Read More: Angels in the Laundromat | Guideposts