Who doesn’t love a fresh start?  I know that I do!  I revel in throwing clutter out, simplifying my life, and the hope that comes from knowing a solid goal has been made is incredibly empowering.

So, why do most people only make fresh starts on January 1st, or after a traumatic event such as a divorce or death?  If fresh starts are so wonderful, why don’t we decide to make them every month or even every 90 days?  For that matter, we could even revisit the same resolutions at regular intervals so that we can succeed this year.

Or, November 1st, March 27th, August 8th?

I’m writing this because I ate a ridiculous amount of sweets and other foods devoid of nutritional value this past week.  Anyone with me?  The truth is, my holiday gluttony was just the natural next step to my gradual shift from eating what I know to be good for me. A little sweet here, a little white flour there.  I used to be a health nut!  Now I’m more like an empty walnut shell with a brown sugar and cinnamon glaze.

So the day after Christmas, I decided I was done: I’m focusing on fruits and veggies for a solid week, and thinking through every food choice before I make it.  I’m not trying to conquer all of 2012 at one time.  Let’s be realistic, y’all.  But this week?  I’m going to WIN, and not like Charlie Sheen “wins.”  To wait until January 1st to make a decision that needs to be made now seems a little crazy.

So, do you have decisions you’re waiting to make for 5 more days?  Why not make them now?  Besides, if your goal is to get fit or lose weight, then you’ll get a few extra days of enjoying a deserted gym before the January 1 rolls around.

I cry when I see an episode of Secret Millionaire. Maybe you do, too.  Something about selfless generosity for worthy causes is inspiring and beautiful. That is why I’m so excited to write about something that happened this past week!

Jesse Hayes, Business Owner!

Meet Jesse. For the past year, my sister Shannon has seen him on the corner of the street near her office at Vanderbilt, and she’s built a friendship with him.  He’s kind and polite, well-spoken, and always has a smile for her.  Apparently, he used to work for Vanderbilt, and then again as a phlebotomist for the Red Cross. He ultimately wants to be a missionary. We don’t know why he has been out of work for some time, but we are sure it’s not for lack of desire! He currently sells copies of The Contributor for a small profit. The Contributor is a local newspaper written by homeless or formerly homeless people.

Jesse is out EVERY morning, rain, sleet, snow or hail.  During the crazy storms we had this past month, my sister asked if he could take a day off because it was lightening and there were tornado sirens blaring.  He said, “I will as soon as I earn $18 to rent my room tonight.”  (He and a friend rent a room in a small home in East Nashville as often as they can afford it).  Shannon, feeling compassion for him, pulled out a $20 and told him to have a great day. He was floored by her generosity and care for him, and it turns out, he would have had a really rough night if he hadn’t had shelter.

Last Thursday, she had a lengthier conversation with Jesse, and he mentioned that he’s trying to save money to buy a lawn mower so that he can start mowing yards in his neighborhood. Knowing it would take him a long time to save enough, she offered to buy him one if he would line up a few yards first.  Again, he was dumbfounded. Why would she be so kind to him? I teared up as she told me this story, and I, too, felt compelled to do something to help him.

I thought a business card would give him some credibility, so I designed one for him last weekend. They are in print, and he’ll have 100 of them to hand out soon!

Lawn Care for Life Change

By Monday, Jesse had lined up 4 yards and possibly 2 more.  He simply went door to door and asked what the homeowners were currently paying, and he said he’d do it for $10 less.  Brilliant!  Shannon went with him to pick out a mower on Tuesday, along with a gas can and 2 gallons of gas to get started. That day, when she showed him the card design from her phone, he beamed and said, “Wow, I’m a business owner!”

Now, I know that these things can go any number of ways, but Shannon and I both feel like he’s going to use these gifts as a head-start to becoming independent. I am honored to have had a small part in it, and to have a compassionate sister and parents who are considering buying him a weed eater as well.

Perhaps, in reading this, you’ll be inspired to look for someone who might need a little hand. As my sweet granddaddy used to say, “You can’t outgive God.”

Have a similar story? I’d love to hear about it!  Comment below and make my day.

Also, if you need lawn care in East Nashville, you know who to call. Click here to see a map of the area where Jesse stays, and spread the word!

We all woke up Friday morning to devastating news that an 8.9 earthquake and massive tsunami in Japan had caused massive destruction.  My thoughts instantly went back to the tsunami of 2004 that affected Indonesia and surrounding countries and how long it’s taken that area to heal. Below is a summary from my relief trip to Banda Aceh, Indonesia 6 years ago. I hope that it will help those of you reading it to realize the extent to which the events in Japan will affect the country and the lives of those who were spared. My prayer is that we’ll all pitch in however we can to help them heal.  Warning: what I’ve written is shocking, heartbreaking, and not for the faint of heart.

Banda Aceh, Indonesia – February, 2005

I am finally at the point where I can somewhat formulate my thoughts and feelings about my recent trip to Indonesia.  It was one of the most trying emotional times of my life.

I will try to paint a little picture, however blurry, of what we initially saw and experienced in Sumatra:

This coastal area lost 95% of its inhabitants.

Barren wastelands. Bulldozed fields. Houses torn to shreds. Red flags for miles, signifying where corpses had been found. Doors with keys still in them, flip flops, bed posts, drawers, medicine bottles, tattered clothing, rusting car parts, whole cars that had been completely crushed, palm trees with no tops, boats perched atop dilapidated houses. The stench of rotting life. The smell of dust, smoke, and death. So foul that you grabbed your shirt collar, covering your nose and begging your lungs to withstand the sudden change. After what felt like forever, we pulled into the front lot of an old abandoned house where we would stay. The owners are likely dead. There were no doors, windows, or furniture. American teams had provided everything that was inside. Cots and mosquito nets lined the walls. Bags of rice waited to be divided for local villagers at the entrance. A generator chugging away provided light from dusk until about 10 PM for the one light bulb upstairs and the few downstairs. One refillable vat of clean water. Three handmade showers with dirty water from who knows where. Three rudimentary toilets (holes in the ground). Our backyard was the ocean and swampy waters containing dead things and small crabs. A tiny walkway of dirt protruded from the liquid mess, allowing us access to the beach via a small jungle of limbs and roots and logs placed over the water that separated us from the ocean.

This barge sheared off the tops of trees in its path and landed 2 miles inland.

There are too many stories to tell. I don’t know where to start.  I could fill this page with sad accounts of the young pregnant lady who probably gave birth this week but whose first child will never know his or her father [picture following]…  Or of the elderly lady who is now the sole care-giver of a tiny little 3 year old who lost both parents and her big brother in the tsunami.  Or of the countless children we saw running around with no apparent caregiver – who likely get taken care of by whoever feels like they have something to offer that week from their own stark poverty.  Everyone lost someone – this is not an understatement.  Of the 14,000 inhabitants of our little area, 8,000 were killed.  Aceh lost over 100,000 total.

A pregnant widow of the tsunami

Each day was spent differently. The men would always build houses. The women cleaned, bagged rice, taught at the local school, delivered rice to local villages and “displaced person” camps [picture below], and washed the men’s clothes, whatever was needed.  Each moment was a struggle b/c of the intense heat and the constant feeling of “dirty.”  Without relief from this intense heat, (save our battery-operated fans that we used primarily at night) it quickly became important to just accept the situation.  Adapting was part of the trip.  After receiving several spider bites about halfway into the week that grew more ominous each hour and threatened to overtake both of my feet, I was so thankful to know that I was being covered in prayers from back home, even though most of you didn’t get word of my bites.  I was concerned but not panicked (and I’m fine now after an emergency trip to a Red Cross infirmary). Prayers sustained all of us throughout the week.

There were about 30 of us in the house that week, and there were no arguments or personality clashes.  From comments about the constant drinking of hot water to the not so sanitary method of washing dishes – it was interesting to see what we ended up laughing about.  The men suffered those first 3 1/2 days. The heat and the work were too much for them. And yet the trudged on. They were strong in His strength. It was hard work. One of our team members got so sick after the first day.  A local reflexologist came to work on him and bring about a modicum of relief.  I would wake up and hear his labored breathing at times, and be thankful that God was looking out for him.

The children in the refugee camps loved bubbles! I don't think they had ever seen them before, so we brought them to each camp to elicit some smiles.

When the biggest part of the day was over, we tried to catch an hour or so at the nearby beach.  The beach was the one place we could expect a little bit of breeze, albeit a hot breeze.  We found that moving hot air is better than stagnant hot air…  I usually collected shells and walked amongst the remains. House contents were strewn along the shoreline. Coral reefs had been ripped from their resting places and were scattered along the dunes. Clothing hung from high in the trees and bushes.  Pieces of pottery were nestled in the sand.  A child’s little arm was found by some members of our team one afternoon.  Though I didn’t see it, that image has been tattooed on my mind since our return.  Last night I dreamed of little arms and legs of children, all around me and the members of our team.  They used to belong to bright, vibrant children who had their whole lives ahead of them.  Again, a call to prayer…

I found flip flops no bigger than my palm. Only one, as the other had been washed somewhere else.  The first little one that I found brought me to tears.  A wave of emotion washed over me as I imagined the tiny child who was wearing it that awful day. I pictured her running for safety before the wave hit, or reaching out to someone to save her from the murky water but not finding anyone who could.  To try to believe that she made it out alive was naïve.  I took that little sandal home to remind me to pray.  As sad as it makes me to think about it, I don’t ever want to forget these people and their needs.  I don’t want to forget their pain and settle right back into my comfortable lifestyle.  Time and distance should not quench these emotions.

The tiny flip flop that brought made an incredible impact on me

I talked with many people, none of which were left untouched by the tsunami. Mothers without children, wives without husbands, little girls suddenly all alone in the world. And yet, rarely did I see a tear fall.  The people in Indonesia, as a general rule, have consciously or unconsciously decided that pretending that their losses aren’t a big deal is the way to get through a day.  The Muslims believe that the tsunami is an act of Allah that is being used to test their faith, and they do not want to fail.  Can you imagine living in a society, under a doctrine that teaches there is no place for the questioning of suffering? Can you imagine the fear that accompanies such a method of existence?  I so wished I could come out and tell them that admitting their pain is okay, and that our God loves them very much and desires to help them through the heartache.  To say that, however, we could have been thrown out of the country.  It is not illegal to BE a Christian there, but it is illegal to have any sort of converting agenda.  Our purpose was to help them in tangible ways, all the while showing OUR God’s love. We weren’t even seed planters on this trip – we were ground tillers.  But that is what is necessary and best right now.  The Acehnese are starting to realize that Christians are not the evil people that  their religion or government has had them believe.

I came home and drew these two survivors. You may see it in the fine art section of my website.

Again and again we were thanked for our presence. Each time this happened, I thought of the skeptics who say it’s a waste of money to buy plane tickets for foreigners to go there over food or “long term” support. I see the fragility of this sort of argument. I see that ABOVE ALL, the presence of Jesus Christ in human form has never failed to be our Father’s method of saving his children. God sent a living, breathing, Truth-inhabited soul to the dingy earth to BE the hands and feet of righteousness we couldn’t seem to be on our own. He was our friend, He came as our brother, our father, our defender, our counselor. He blessed the meek. He strengthened the frail. I feel that need for people to go and be there.  We do not know how long the window will be open to Westerners.   Some have speculated that it could be just a matter of weeks or months.  Even during our stay, we could sense the tension growing.  The military and government officials were watching our teams closely, even questioning the groups of locals that we talk to after we left – to make sure we weren’t spreading the gospel.  We found out on the last day of our trip that a Christian Indonesian man had been hanging around our camp at night with guns to protect us in case word got out that we were there (and all Christian) and it made any Muslims angry.

This young man was one of our translators. I drew his sister and her friend at his request from a tiny battered photograph that he still had. She was lost in the flood waters.

I am thankful to have had the experience to go to this region.  I am also very thankful to be home, where I can live and worship openly.  You’ve probably at some point been thankful that you can worship openly in this country. Until you’ve been somewhere where you must clap your hand over your mouth if you accidentally say “Jesus,” mention the Bible or say that you’ll pray for someone – it is hard to fully appreciate what we have here.  On more than one occasion, I slipped up in public (even in our home’s kitchen we had to be careful) and immediately looked around in fear that one of the local Muslims had heard me and I had put our team in jeopardy.  To come home and be able to sing about God’s love and provision in my Tuesday morning Bible Study at church was like drinking ice-cold water after being stranded in a desert for a month.  Please do not take it for granted…  Please pray that one day the people of Indonesia will experience the same freedoms that we have always enjoyed.

I’m quitting Christmas. I see your eyebrows going up and your blood pressure rising, so let me explain: I’m quitting the commercialism of Christmas: The rushing around for a month to make sure that all of the people I love have the PERFECT gifts under their tree from me, that I spend not too little or not too much, that my husband knows by my gift(s) how much I love him… The list goes on, literally!  I challenge you to take a moment and try to think of the gifts you gave and received last year.  Can you remember any of them? If you can’t, how much do they really matter?

The real joy and meaning behind the holiday (Christ’s birth) can easily get lost in the hustle and bustle, and many of us don’t seem to mind. After all, there are things to do! Gifts to buy! Stores begin selling us on the giving season before Halloween has even passed. People rush out on Black Friday and become these crazed, shopping shells of who they were just a day before on Thanksgiving.

I’ve had it.

This year will be different, and I have my amazing family to thank for it. I recently had the chance to be involved with a stop-motion video production that my church produced with this simple message: Less under our trees… More for the world. The premise is that by asking for (or buying) fewer gifts for people in our lives who already have more than enough, it frees us to give in life-changing, kingdom-building ways both locally and around the world! What an amazing concept: to give to those who really need it, and to side-step the mad shopping rush and stress that comes along with it at the same time.

I brought the idea up to my husband, sister, and parents to see if they would be on board with not buying presents for each other (minus stocking stuffers) and instead, directing the money that we would have spent on gifts and finding some life-changing ways to donate to those truly in need. They eagerly agreed, and the search for the best way to spend our money began.

I’m sharing what we came up with here in hopes that it might inspire you to do something similar with your families. Each of us have organizations and causes that we are passionate about.

Nate and I discussed how we wanted to spend our Christmas gift money, and we felt led to direct it to World Vision.

This organization is well-known, and they have an awesome gift catalog that allows you to choose gifts for families and communities that make a huge impact in long-term, substantial ways. Our contributions will provide starving families with 13 farm animals (a pig, a sheep, a goat, and 10 chickens), which will provide milk, eggs, meat, and wool for them to consume and sell at the market.  The animals will also procreate with animals in the community to provide a multiplying source of food and income for the desperately in need. I’m so excited!! And, in honor of our recently born daughter (she’s one week old today!), we are providing a newborn survival kit for a new mother.  The kit includes a bassinet, diapers, a warm blanket, a container for clean water, soap, and training for the mother-to-be.  I cannot imagine living in a developing country and trying to adequately care for my child, so Nate and I are really excited to give this gift.

My sister has a heart for the people living in the dump in Guatemala City.

With her Christmas gift money, she’s providing the following through the Potter’s House organization:

A bag of food each for 3 elderly people
A parenting class for a struggling family
A month of nutritional lunches for a child (often the only meal he or she will eat all day)
A Bible study club for 75 children
A micro loan for an entrepreneur to grow a business and provide for his or her family
Groceries for three local women who volunteer at the dump ministry
Food for a family of 5 for a week
Job training for a woman to become self-supporting
Training and materials for a volunteer health promoter for a month

My parents have become quite passionate about an organization that is close to my heart, the Abba House Foundation in Chiang Mai, Thailand.

I served there three years ago, working with teenage girls who have been rescued from abusive or dangerous situations. Many of them have been kidnapped, raped, sold into prostitution, or otherwise abused or at risk due to their family circumstances. Several are post sex slaves. The Abba House needs constant support, as they are not affiliated with a denomination as many missionaries are. My Mom and Dad chose to have their Christmas gift money benefit this amazing organization, which will allow them to continue taking in children and providing them with safe shelter, food, love, and an education.

I felt led to blog about our decision to “quit Christmas” this year in hopes that it will inspire some of you reading this to consider it as well, even if you only replace one gift under each of your trees with a life-changing one here or overseas. Comment to let me know if this has piqued your interest!

Last night, my husband and I had a much-needed “Veg Fest.” If you know us well, you know we work hard and play hard, but rarely just veg! So we caught some of a new TV series called “Three Rivers.” It’s on CBS, and it focuses on a medical team that harvests organs from gracious donors who have passed, and find “homes” for them in very sick and needy patients, some of whom have been waiting for a long time. I enjoyed it, and it sparked some discussion between Nate and I.

I’ve had the organ donor box checked on my driver’s license since I was 16, and I’ve always thought I wanted everything possible to be donated except for my skin and eyes. Many people don’t even know that these can be donated, and I’ve kind of thought of it as “icky.” However, donating these organs would make a world of difference in the lives of a blind person or burn victim, so I’ve given it some more thought. Now, if you’re on top of things, you’re realizing that this extensive donation could make for an unsightly open casket. Enter my next preference: cremation.

Now, before you start thinking this will be a morbid blog post, be assured that you’re probably going to laugh very soon .

Cremation… the alternative to slowly becoming worm food over the course of many years. I’m rather fond of it. But, what do your loved ones DO with your remains? There’s the sprinkling into the ocean, off of a mountainside, and resting in the somewhat typical urn on the mantle which could be creepy for your home’s visitors or housekeeper.

I want something different. I am an artist. When I die and become ashes, I’d like to become art. (What?)

I think I'd feel eternally comfy in one of these shapes.

You heard me! I want my ashes to be given to a skilled and open-minded potter who will then mix me into clay and form a number of beautiful pieces of pottery for each of my loved ones to cherish for a lifetime. I fancy them choosing the design or have something inscribed on their work of art.

I LOVE IT. I have made my wishes known to Nate, and in the event of our simultaneous demise, we’d like to both be incorporated into a separate vase. There you have it!

How do you want to spend your “after years?” Please comment! I want to know. Oh, and please check your donor box if you haven’t already. It’s your final chance to save lives.

For my Dad’s hilarious run-down of his post-demise options, click here! He’s a trip.

“Help!” uttered a small voice from the backseat on my cousin’s family vacation. Holly’s motherly instinct kicked in and she quickly turned to see what was going on with her youngest son. The little guy had apparently gotten hot and tried to take off his shirt while strapped into his car seat. Now he was stuck! I received an email with this photo attached. (Holly’s motherly instinct was superseded at least temporarily by her desire to catch the humorous situation on camera first)

What strikes me as great about this photo is his expression. Here’s a kid, completely stuck, can’t see, probably feeling confined and helpless, yet he’s SMILING. He knew it was all going to be alright and wasn’t stressing out. I immediately decided I could learn from this little guy.

I occasionally find myself feeling a bit “stuck.” How great would it be to just realize that something is out of my control, laugh, and find help? Do you ever spend too much time trying to do something on your own, only to finally get frustrated, cranky, and then ask for help? (Guilty as charged). Next time, I’m going to remember Cooper. Will you?

In the words of Beth Moore, “We are wise to force ourselves to keep differentiating between simple inconveniences and authentic tribulations.”

Admit it. All of the press and hype about this awful recession has started to get to you a little, hasn’t it? Even if you haven’t lost your job, you probably know someone who has, or you are concerned about your own.

The fact is, that yes… people have lost some jobs. They are being forced to get a bit creative and seek out possibly a whole new career path. Is this necessarily a bad thing? I stand that it is not.

I am a freelance artist. You can believe that I’ve been getting a lot of questions and concerns about how I’m doing in these uncertain times. And a couple of months ago, I might have told you that I was concerned. In my little corner of the world, people weren’t spending the usual big bucks on custom portraits for Christmas gifts. Portrait commissions accounted for the majority of my income, so I realized that I had to make some changes in how I do business.

The recession caused me to change my plan of action.

I started learning more, researching some creative ways to further my business. It so happens that I have a very marketable set of skills in the area of graphic design! The wheels started turning, and it went something like this: “People are spending less on ‘unnecessary’ items right now (portraits). But businesses need more help than ever, and many new businesses are starting up as a result of this recession… Maybe, just maybe I need to find ways to connect with these people for awhile.” And so I did.

I became an active Twitterer (If you are unfamiliar with Twitter, it’s a micro-blogging tool that is sweeping the world. Visit Twitter.com for more information). It has the ability to connect people in need of specific services with those people who are offering said services. It’s brilliant, and I had never seen its value before necessity called for a change in my thinking.

In a matter of 2 weeks, my graphic design business quadrupled, enough to where I’m now working with a handful of amazing, loyal clients and I’m now able to turn down work. IN A RECESSION.

This post isn’t about Twitter, or about how blessed I am to be thriving in a down economy. It’s about YOU. It’s about changing your thinking. It’s about refusing to listen to mainstream media with all of its predictions and reports of doom and gloom. It’s about realizing that the answer to your problems is out there – you just need to expand your horizons and think about solutions that are a bit “out of the box.” More millionaires were made during the Great Depression than in any other time in our nation’s history. I am convinced that this is not a coincidence, but a testament to how, when we have to, we can find a way.

I’d love to hear back from you on this. And if I can help, I’d love to.

Follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/KellyONeill.

Last weekend, I was at a family’s home and one of their girls, Ravin, came to show me her latest creations in her portfolio. At not even 10 years old yet, she’s always impressed me with her creativity, but one of her paintings stood out to me:

What’s so great about this particular painting is how she created it. She laid down a quarter to mask the area where the sun was going to be, and splattered paint around it. I asked her how she did the splatters of color, and she gave me a big smile and said “with a toothbrush!” Her reply almost had a “silly girl, what else would I use?” tone to it, but I’m pretty sure it was my own artistic convictions coloring my reaction.

You see, I used to paint with toothbrushes. I painted with leaves, string, my fingers, and a host of other non-conventional tools. My paintings didn’t always stay on the paper, and they were rarely centered. When did I stop thinking that this was an acceptable way to paint?

Ravin’s painting was a kind reminder that we artistic types should never lose the wonder of getting a little messy.

~ Here’s to painting outside of the box from time to time. Thanks Ravin! ~

A mini “How To” manual from someone who’s been there:

1.  Get a free account at www.backpackit.com. It’s a GENIUS online To-Do List, and you and your fiance’ can conquer the world together with it!

2.  For the first 2 weeks, do not eat, do not sleep, do not do anything but make phone calls.  This will take some dedication, but you’ll thank yourself later.

3.  Embrace the fact that you’re having a Sunday wedding. No, there will not be any Saturdays available until this time next year, unless you get want to get hitched at Sonny’s Bait Shop.

4.  Do not underestimate the value of a good spreadsheet. Cross reference your available venues, photographers, caterer, and guest attendees.  You may have to move your date around to accommodate Aunt Louise’s hip surgery, or to make sure you get the cake designer that you want – be flexible!  No one likes a Bridezilla.

5. If someone offers to throw a shower for you, say YES.  These are wonderful breaks from the planning, and it helps remind you that you have loving people all around who are super-excited about your wedding day too.

6. Stay AWAY from the thick bridal magazines. I don’t care how “Modern” or “Today” you want your wedding to be: this type of reading material will only give you a slew of ideas that you don’t have the time to do.

7. Try to get your dress, jewelry, and shoes on the same day. I cannot stress this enough: Multiple trips to shoe stores returning shoes you *thought* would look good with your dress that is now at your alterations lady’s house is not fun.  In the end, go to Payless for white shoes.  No one will see them anyway!

8. If a friend gives you the “if there’s anything I can do to help…” line, accept before she finishes her sentence. In fact, keep a running list of yet-to-do items in your purse and just whip it out for just this occasion.  This way, she can pick her favorite!  LOL

9.  Enjoy the process, but if you have to be stressed during either on your wedding day or in the planning weeks, choose the latter.  If I had a nickel for every bride who’s told me they barely remember their wedding day, well…  my parents wouldn’t be writing quite as many checks. Capiche?

10.  Marry someone as wonderful as my groom-to-be, who neither argues with your good judgement, but also spends every moment that he can taking care of some of the details for you.  Ahhhhh

Want to see how my wedding turned out?  View our wedding photos. It was a day that dreams are made of

If you live in the Nashville area you know first-hand that we’ve had a gas shortage.  The hurricanes and the fact that people are freaking out and getting in line for an hour just to top off their tanks out of fear are contributing to this problem.

I was blessed to find a station yesterday with some gas.  Nate, my fiance’ was kind enough to take this photo for this blog article.  If you see my car in town, give me a little friendly honk!

It’s not all smiles at the pump.  I have to bring a story to you that blows my mind.  Have people gone mad?  My dear friend, who we’ll call Samantha, was in line to get gas the other day at a Shell station.  The line was ridiculously long, but she got up to the front and there was this woman who had already filled up her car, but had not moved forward enough for another car to come behind her.  She was holding up the line, and it turns out she had sent out a couple of her friends to go and buy some gas cans at another store and bring them back to her so she could get some “back-up” gasoline on top of what she had already bought.

Samantha asked her if she would pull forward, but was refused. (At this point, several other drivers have started yelling and/or demanding that she move).  My friend decided to pull in sideways to the woman’s car so that she could reach the pump.  The woman was irate and came over and punched her in the face. Continue to hear what happened next. Samantha pushed her away and asked what the heck was she doing?  The woman came back at her, scratching and pulling her hair!  At this point, people are coming out of their cars to help my friend, pulling the woman off of her.  Eventually the cops came and a report was filed.

I heard this story and was so saddened by the selfishness of this woman and the way she handled herself just because the city was low on gasoline.  She felt like it was okay to use violence against a complete stranger to get her way.   What can we do to prevent this type of behavior?  Is it even possible?  Can we only make sure that we are in check and hope that others will act civilized?   I am opening this up for discussion.  Feel free to comment.