Let God Sort 'Em Out

I've been working as a secret shopper for awhile. At the end of the month, they have a lot of jobs that have not been completed by deadlines because no one signed up for them, and they call and offer more money to do them. The last few days of the month, you run your legs off, but you make more than if you worked the piddly jobs all month. It seems like they would figure out if they offered more money during the month, they would get the jobs done and not have this mad rush at the end, but oh well.
I have learned through doing these why no teenager wants to work fast food for very long. I also have a new appreciation for anyone who ends up making McDonalds a career as a manager. I think I'd rather put my head in an oven. One other thing I've learned is that many people don't care at all about others. They come in, eat, let their kid throw french fries all over the restaurant, spill their coke, drop their wrappers on the floor and then calmly walk out and leave it all behind. The dining room has to be cleaned every fifteen minutes so someone, making minimum wage probably, has to clean up their disaster zone. That makes me mad.
Then on the way to one of these jobs yesterday, I am behind this big expensive car (don't know one kind from another, sorry, but it was fancy) and this perfectly manicured blonde who probably never wanted for a nickel in her life, stops at the light in front of me. She then proceeds to dump the contents of her obviously overflowing ashtray out the car window onto the road. That makes me mad, too.
But then I hear of a young couple who goes once a month to a homeless shelter to dip out macaroni and cheese to the people there. And who adopt a child off the angel tree every year and buy them a bicycle. And I hear of a young man on the radio who spends three days 100 feet in the air on a crane lift in 35 degree weather, so he can broadcast and beg people to come down and donate bicycles for underpriviledged children and he gets over 350 people to buy one and bring it down. And I feel better.
You heard me mention David Schnaufer, the dulcimer player that was so nice and encouraging to me as a beginner, who mailed me a copy of his copyrighted music simply because I liked it. Who sat with me and taught me to play Amazing Grace even though he had a show to prepare for, because he knew I was his biggest fan. Well, he died last week at the age of 53, and the music here will never ben quite as sweet, but heaven is rocking. That makes me sad.
This week, I challenge everyone who reads this to do one nice thing each day for someone, even if it's a small thing. The world will be a brighter place because of it.