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see me feel me touch me heal me
10/25/2008 = 05:13 PM

Do you recall, a few months ago, my recounting of being ambushed at Albertson's by a girl who laid hands upon me and prayed to Jesus Christ to heal my dry skin?

He listened. Intervened with the forces of nature on my behalf, He did.

Mind you, He sent help in the form of a lantzman (Yiddish for a neighbor or a fellow countryman; used in our family, and probably others' as well, to refer to someone Jewish).

This particular Jewish person was a nice Israeli girl from Tel Aviv (so, closer to being a lantzperson to Jesus Himself than to me, a lapsed Jew born in Connecticut, but it still counts as being, essentially, the sort of person whose house you would not go to without stopping at the bakery first).

She looked about the same age as the one who had done the laying on of hands in the first place, but I learned she was older, in her thirties; she just had amazing skin.

Mine is pretty amazing now, too, by the way, because my new lantzperson, unlike the healing Albertson's religion ambusher, actually had beauty products, including samples.

Dead Sea products, specifically.

I won't tell you what I paid, except that it was more than I have spent on beauty products in years and years, but it was far less than most normal women spend on beauty products, and far less than what it would be worth retail, because she works at the Premium Outlet Mall in Las Vegas and everything is discounted every day there, plus there's a big sale going on this weekend.

Believe me, I'd never have done it otherwise.

I have, affordably, even on my starting-over-again income, acquired some Dead Sea Salts Scrub, Facial Peel, Moisturizer, and Daily Facial Wash, and I am soft, I am not itchy, I am smelling like passion fruit, and I am glowing like nuclear winter.

Yes, it even worked on my worst bits (elbows, ankles, and heels).

I was wrong, and you were all right, those of you who said there did exist marketable products that would work on my problem skin. I salute you.

I also salute the girl at the mall, who, I grant you, knew a sucker when she saw one, but at least gave me a product that worked and not just a nice bottle of snake oil.

Mostly, I salute the girl who prayed for me. I thought she was a crackpot zealot, and maybe she was, but who cares — it worked. Between the time she laid hands upon me and now, I have gone from unemployed and dry-skinned to having a job and being soft.

Miracles do happen. You just have to be willing to accept tiny ones while you wait for the big ones.

I wish I could find that girl and let her know her prayer worked, but since I have no idea where to look, all I could do was to pay it forward.

I had a humongous stack of coupons for the other outlet stores, and all the ones I didn't use, I went around to the stores, found a shopper who was going to buy something, and gave them a coupon.

As I mentioned, there are sales going on this weekend at the outlet mall. Buying beauty products was not the end of my happy, today.

Yes, that is a Coach clutch. Thanks for asking.

I decided to overlook the fact that there is a bug on it, because the bug is a) pink; and b) sparkly.

And yes, the penguin keyring is also Coach. Again, thanks for asking.

I won't tell you what I paid for this, either, but I'll tell you that it was marked so far down from its original price that I could have gotten a clutch at le Mart du Wal for about the same, and it wouldn't have been nearly as cute.

I also had a pretzel dog at Auntie Anne's. Pretzels and hot dogs, two of my favorite foods, wrapped up together. I want Auntie Anne to adopt me.

Probably, though, the best feature of the Premium Outlet Mall, is the fact that they are the company that hired That Man of Mine when we both were starting to think neither of us was employable. They saved his sanity and mine.

Miracles do happen.

Tags: Coach Bags; Premier Dead Sea Beauty Products; Auntie Anne's Pretzels; Las Vegas Premium Outlet Mall

drinking: ice water
listening to: nothing
tonight: nrem's birthday celebration. toga