A Service Station for Delivery Workers

Share & Help Me Grow

Say “thank you” to your delivery helpers with a self-service station filled with snacks and drinks to keep them fueled through long holiday hours.

This year, we have passed around a cold and at least one child has been sick since Thanksgiving. It’s miserable to be sick during the Christmas season!

Without online shopping, I am not sure how I would be able to purchase presents.

When I saw a post on Facebook sharing a unique gift idea for postal workers and delivery service people, I remembered how much our delivery workers have actually done for us this year.

For instance, the night of Lira’s 13th birthday…

We were on family vacation to Walt Disney World the week prior to Lira’s birthday.

I always plan ahead for birthdays. There is this fear in the back of my brain that haunts me. I imagine waking up to realize I have forgotten a child’s birthday. But this year was different.

Since the budget was tight to make the vacation happen, I did not purchase her present before our trip. I planned to purchase her present to be delivered on the day we arrived home… which was the day before her birthday… and I miscalculated by one day.

Amazon “guaranteed delivery by 8 PM” on Lira’s birthday. Talking about cutting it close!

Our children normally get their presents when everyone wakes. Awkward since her present was still en-route. With a feeling of failure in my heart, I explained to Lira that her present would be delivered later and that I would make her day special while she waited.

I made a big breakfast of pancakes with sprinkles and bacon and dropped her off at school with a smile on my face. Upon returning home, I started my vigil at the window.

Every time I heard what sounded like a large truck, I ran to the door.

No UPS.

Again, I would hear the rattle of a big engine and run to the door.

No UPS.

The time came to pick up the children from school and as I pulled forward in car line, I could see Lira’s face… streaming with tears. She had a rotten day. A day that would make Alexandar’s horrible, rotten, no good, very bad day look wonderful.

And I had nothing to give her.

Dropping the other three children at home with my husband, I took her to our local Walmart on a mission to distract her. We bought the ingredients for an epic ice cream sundae bar and a LEGO Friends set to help keep her busy while we waited for UPS.

Dinner was served and after dessert, the family gathered around the television to watch a movie she had been waiting to see for months.

While the children giggled over the silly antics of a man turned into a cat, I hawkishly watched the clock. The hand slowly inched closer and closer to bedtime. 8 PM. The same time our delivery was “guaranteed” to arrive.

When the movie was over, Lira headed to the shower. That’s when I heard it… the rumble of the big, brown UPS truck.

FINALLY!

The other three children ripped open the door and eagerly bounced as they waited for the UPS workers to bring the Amazon box to the door.

“Someone’s having a birthday,” she chuckled, seeing all of our birthday decor.

“Yes, today is my daughter’s 13th birthday and you just saved the day because this is her present!” I replied.

We bid her good-night, quickly closed the door, and tore open the box… to find it wasn’t Lira’s present but party favors for her friends.

I flew out into the yard and flagged down the driver and his helper.

“There must be another box! Please, tell me there is another box for us!” I cried.

“Sorry! That was it.”

And I crumpled.

The stress of the day… the feeling of failure… the overwhelming sense of having destroyed my daughter’s 13th birthday… it was too much.

I slowly returned to the living room where the other three children and I bawled. I pleaded with Jesus to help us. I had no idea what to do, but the shower was still running. There had to be something.

My husband, Bill, grabbed my phone and reviewed the Amazon tracking number. The UPS website said the box was out for delivery.”

That amazing husband of mine darted into the yard but it was too late. The big, brown truck was moving up the street. So, Bill jumped in our van and sped after it.

I sat on the sofa with my head in my hands, wondering what I could do to salvage this day. I have a history of bad birthdays. We call it “the birthday curse.” Never, ever could I let that pass on to Lira.

And then… the familiar rumble…

I ran back to the door just in time to see our UPS delivery driver walking towards the house, a sheepish look on his face, with my husband trailing behind.

“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

I hugged him and cried. Thank you did not seem like an accurate expression of the gratitude and relief I felt in my heart.

UPS did not have to turn around. I’m sure they had a ga-jillion packages left to deliver before the shift was over. I’m certain they were ready for a hot meal and a decent night of sleep.

They could have kept driving and shrugged it off as a problem to deal with the next day. But the driver and his helper had mercy on this frantic mother and came back with the package and an apology.

The least I could do was offer a little gift to demonstrate how special our delivery helpers are to me.