We arrived at church one Sunday morning, eager to get inside and escape the chilling wind and cool air. I was cold, to say in the least, and needed something to warm me up fast. I quickly made my way to a table on the side where plenty of Swiss Miss and boiling water were laid ready, and made myself a cup of hot chocolate.
Don’t you love the aroma of freshly brewed hot chocolate? It’s almost teasing, because it smells so delicious, and yet you know it’s too hot to gulp down in an instant.
That’s how I felt as I walked over to the row where my family sat. Soon, very soon, I’ll be warmed up by this hot drink, and how scrumptious it will taste! I tapped the shoulder of a friend seated in front of me.
“Hey Melissa!”
“Hey – ” she started, then stoppd abruptly. We both stood with mouths open and silent for a second. For right after I had called out my greetings to Melissa, Nate, who was completely unaware that I was behind him, had bumped into me, spilling half my cup of hot chocolate all over my blouse and skirt.
My first thought: well, at least it didn’t get on this beautiful carpet!
My second thought: oh no! There goes my lovely cup of hot chocolate!
My third and most sensible thought thus far: I’ve got hot chocolate all over me and church is about to start – AGHH!
In a flash I was in the bathroom, dousing my clothes with cold water, trying desperately to remove any stains. When I had finished, most of the brown was gone, however I now had a large, dark spot in the middle of my shirt. I was wet and once again, cold.
With a sigh I returned to where everything had started; Melissa was trying to tell me something. “I’ve got an extra shirt in the car you can use.”
I nodded. Something dry would be nice about now!
The lights dimmed in the building, service was to start soon, and Melissa was singing on the worship team that day. “Nathan!” She called to her brother. “Take Kasie to my car. You two can dig through my backpack (the purple one!) and find something for her.”
I threw my jacket over my shoulders and hurried outside with Nathan.
“Here’s the bag she was talking about,” he said after we’d reached Melissa’s car. We eventually found a hoody for me which, once inside, I was able to wear in exchange for my wet blouse.
Worship went well, the service was great, and throughout it all I wore an old, grey hoody with my long pretty skirt. 
(I still wonder what others must have thought at my miss-matched clothes!) When the sermon had ended I tapped Melissa on the shoulder once more;
“Meliss, when do you need this sweater back?”
“Um… well that’s actually not mine. That hoody belongs to her,” she pointed to a girl whom I’d neither met nor seen before. “I don’t know if Nathan picked the wrong backpack or our clothes got mixed up, but it’s not mine.”
Oh no! It’s nothing much to borrow clothes from a friend, but to someone I didn’t know – I thought I’d been handling this misshap rather well up to this point, but it was here that I became quite embarrassed.
Again, I found myself in the bathroom, quickly changing out of this girl’s grey hoody and into my blouse (which now was only damp). Only this could happen to me – was my thought as rushed back to the girl and returned her sweater.
“I’m so sorry!” she said
“I’m so sorry!” I told her, then she was gone, she left in a hurry with Melissa.
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There are some things that happen to you in life over which you can either laugh aloud because it’s so ridiculous, or cry out of embarrassment. Thankfully, my embarrassment was very short lived, I was well able to find the humor in this little story. I hope you did.
-Kasie
