Hi Steve, I like this one.   We need more Zegies in this world.   
Thanks for sharing.
Original message:
> Ziggy's Garage
> Times were tough in our household. My husband was out of work, and 
> there was no sign of anything promising for him. Our son had been in a 
> diving accident and was recuperating at home after two surgeries. In 
> addition to going to nursing school full time, I was working three part 
> time jobs just to put food on the table for our family of five.
> After a rather meager meal one night, I answered the ringing phone. 
> With no introduction, a quiet, deep voice asked, "Do you need food? 
> Come to my place, and I can help you."
> Directions followed and he clicked off. No in depth conversation or 
> queries as to our financial situation. It was up to us to decide 
> whether or not we trusted a voice on the telephone to seek out this stranger.
> I was desperate. With barely any food in the cabinet and no prospect of 
> a job for my husband, I knew I had to take a chance, swallow my pride, 
> and accept the bizarre offer. Was there a catch? Were we the victims of a 
> scam?
> It wasn't an easy task to get to our benefactor's home. Miles of 
> wooded, winding roads led to more wooded, winding roads. Someone must 
> have played a cruel joke on us. Just as I had made up my mind to turn 
> around, gritting my teeth over the waste of precious gas used on this 
> wild goose chase, a mailbox appeared in the headlights.
> The simple white, raised ranch home was easy to miss. Set on a knoll, a 
> bank of trees hid the front of the house, but the blazing lights from 
> the open garage beckoned me. There was no car in the garage. Instead, 
> lined up in orderly rows were tables filled with canned food, bags of 
> bread, packages of diapers, laundry detergent, everything needed to 
> maintain a home.
> A craggy, nondescript gentleman greeted me with a minimum of verbiage. 
> Not much different than our phone conversation!
> "Look around. If you see what you want, help yourself." He handed me 
> paper bags and turned away to another bewildered new arrival, passing 
> along the same message.
> This couldn't be real! I guiltily filled the paper sacks with what we 
> absolutely needed and gratefully thanked the elderly man.
> "Be here next week. You'll run out by then," was his reply.
> My head was spinning. I had three bags of groceries given to me FREE by 
> someone I had never met before, and he had told me to return for more. 
> Who in his right mind did such a thing?
> Well, it seems that this Angel of Mercy, Ziggy, did. Widowed and 
> retired, he wanted to do something worthwhile in his golden years to 
> fill his time. He drove his pickup truck daily and begged for usable 
> items and canned goods from local grocery stores.
> He delivered most of the booty to the shelters and food banks. What was 
> left over, he stocked in his garage, sought out folks like us who had 
> fallen on hard times, and gave it away.
> I never knew what our weekly menus would be until the boys and I had 
> "shopped" in Ziggy's garage. We ate canned ham, stew, oatmeal, or corn 
> 99 different ways, feasting like royalty. With our bellies full, we 
> could focus on paying necessary bills with what little money we had. A 
> major stress had been lifted that winter until my husband did find a job.
> Once in a while, I stop in front of that house where Ziggy used to 
> live. The garage is gone, but I can still hear that little man saying, 
> "Look around, help yourself."
> Yes, Ziggy, I did look around. I saw a gentle spirit, who gave what he 
> could to a young mother and her family who needed a boost. Then I 
> helped myself to what I wanted, a renewed belief in the kindness of 
> strangers and gratitude for hope which had been dimmed.
> Ziggy fed our bodies and our souls, and the world is a richer place 
> because of him.

> A single candle can illuminate an entire room. A true friend lights up
> an entire lifetime. Thanks for the bright lights of your friendship.
> 
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