10-16-2026 4:05am

In Service: UPS: United People’s Service

Lesley Misko Editor

"Renegade" acrylic on panel by Mitch Tyson

Editor's Note: Writers were asked to respond to the theme of "service" as part of Studio B Art Gallery's summer of 2026 "In Service" project sponsored by a grant from the Berks County Community Foundation. This is the final submission in the series. We thank our poets and prose writers for their entertaining and thought-provoking submissions and look forward to publishing next summer's entries on the theme "Working Together."

by Trudy Moore

I should have known…Wednesday before Thanksgiving is the worst time to be on the road. But I was driving to visit my family (daughter, son-in-law, dog and cat) in Virginia for the holiday. Because of the traffic, the trip was longer than usual, with people losing their cool by beeping their horns incessantly, yelling out the window, and actually showing the middle finger to anyone that would acknowledge them. And I did try to reciprocate with many of them…….by yelling out “Happy Thanksgiving!” with a smile. To my surprise, some drivers would shrink back from their anger, slow down and smile back, making the trip more pleasant for all of us. And I reacted by remembering, “ Mom, you were right… all it takes sometimes is a little bit of “honey.”

When I finally arrived at my destination, there were hugs and kisses, as well as the wagging of tails and purring around my feet. Life was good, and I had arrived safely. Thanksgiving was a blessed event with family and friends together, and I looked forward to Friday, when we were to attend a performance of “Hamilton” at the Kennedy Center. I fell asleep thinking how lucky I was to have such supportive people around me.

After a late breakfast on Friday, I decided to take a walk through the wooded area behind my children’s home. You can walk for miles back there, and I was determined to work off the big meal from the day before. Kim, my daughter, reminded me to take my phone to keep track of time, and then quipped, “and don’t get lost back there. All those paths can get confusing.” But, as a former Brownie, Girl Scout, Girl Scout leader, and wilderness inhabitant, I scoffed at such a suggestion.

Off I went on my adventure, wrapped in as many layers of clothing as I could find, as it was the coldest day of the year so far. I met up with others walking their dogs, and we would chat as I made some canine friends. I spent time looking at the beautiful and peaceful woods, noting the effort that had gone into developing such a beautiful area to visit. There were even man-made little lakes and ponds as well as playgrounds and basketball areas that had been planned and built by the people who lived around these woods. So much of the time we don’t appreciate the efforts of people who serve others with their efforts to make the environment such a welcoming place to be.

After awhile, I became conscious of time passing and looked at my phone to see what time it was. I kept tapping for the screen to come up, but, alas, my phone was “deader than a door nail,” (whatever that means?) “Oh well,” I thought. I hadn’t charged the phone before I left, and the very cold temperature drained what was left on the battery.

Thinking I could be early going home, I started back on the path I was on. After awhile things didn’t look familiar, and I asked a dog walker if he could direct me to Oak Hollow. He was happy to give me directions. Unfortunately, they were not the correct directions. I found myself totally turned around, so I headed up from the woods to a neighborhood in view. When I got to the top of the hill, the houses and surroundings didn’t look familiar at all. Meanwhile, back at the ranch (or the house at Oak Hollow to be specific), Kim was getting a little frantic, not only because we were possibly going to be late for the show, but because she might have lost her mother to the woods. And because of my dead phone, she had no way to contact me.

Honestly, I was beginning to worry myself, as the frigid air was beginning to bite through the carefully planned layers of clothing. I walked a couple more blocks, feeling a little desperate, hoping to see someone who could help with directions. And then I spotted a UPS truck. Certainly the driver would know how to direct me back to my home-away-from-home! As I approached the big brown vehicle, the driver was just returning from delivering packages. I knocked on the opposite door, and he looked at me with suspicious eyes. …Really? You are afraid of a 5 feet tall, 80-year-old woman who is dressed in layers like the Michelin Man?

I put on my most wounded looking face and asked him to please open his door as I was lost. Finally regaining his composure, he opened the door and asked how he could help. I asked him if he knew where Oak Hollow was, and he thought for a moment and then asked for the specific address. After I replied, he walked towards the rear of the truck, and came back with a slight smile on his face. “Well, it’s against the rules,” he stated quite firmly while unfolding a little chair, “But it’s a holiday….hop on, little lady, that’s my next delivery!.” I thanked whatever divine forces were at work, and I climbed on board the big brown truck.

We chatted on the way, and I learned that he was doing this as a side job while attending classes to get his engineering degree. His wife was also working to help keep them afloat, but he was always worried that he needed to do more. I smiled and told him not to worry, as my husband and I had started out in a similar fashion. “ Hard work and perseverance will pay off. Just keep at it and believe in yourself.” I said. “Trust me, I’ve lived long enough to see this happen again and again.”

We finally reached the street where my daughter lived, and the driver, his name was Jake, handed me the package that was to be delivered and said he hoped I enjoyed the rest of my stay. Just then my son-in-law came out the front door of the house to take the dog out for a walk. He stopped, with his mouth wide open. I jumped out of the truck and declared, “ You have a package!” He stood there for a moment, then shook his head and said, “You certainly are a package!” and then just kept walking, head still shaking. My daughter greeted me at the door, a concerned look starting to melt from her face, as she waved to Jake and thanked him for saving her mother and the rest of our holiday.

The first ending of this story is that we thoroughly enjoyed “Hamilton” and being at the Kennedy Center, and the holiday was totally one of our better ones.

The second ending of this story is that, a couple of years later, through Kim, but really addressed to me, was a note that said:

“You left such an impression on me that I wanted you to know that I often thought about our chance meeting and your words of advice. I have just graduated with a degree in engineering and already have a job. Thank you for getting lost and finding me at the right moment in my life.”- With gratitude, Jake

Little things matter more than we know.

Trudy E. Moore was an English teacher for 32 years, spent much time teaching writing skills, and she has even presented programs to adult fledgling writers in church groups and at Barnes and Noble. Most of her writing experiences were in professional journals, but now uses her spare time to paint and write.