I would never have been able to get where I am in this life of mine without the help, love and support of a lot of good people.
Friends and family who have been there for me and even total strangers along the way have helped to shape the life of a little quiet girl named Peggy who grew up on the plains of Kansas.
Mike and I were wandering around in one of the furniture stores up in Grand Junction this weekend. We were not there to purchase anything but instead we were just browsing. In particular we found ourselves in the living room furniture area amidst all the sofas and love seats, chairs and ottomans, and all of the coordinating accessories that a person could dream of owning. The colors, fabrics and designs were certainly beautiful, some of them with price tags to match. As we made our way up and down the aisles, my thoughts began to return to a time long ago and a very kind man in my hometown of Haven, Kansas. It is in his memory that this blog post is today written.
Bob Cantwell owned the funeral home and furniture store back in the small south-central Kansas town I grew up in. He was a veteran of WWII, a field medic if I rightly remember. His demeanor was quiet and unassuming as kindness exuded from every bone in his body. As the local funeral home director, it was Bob's job to take care of the final arrangements for nearly everyone who passed away in that little town. Although that would have to be a tough thing to do, Bob Cantwell did it with grace and loving concern. When my father died of lung cancer back in 1982, it was Bob who came to the hospital in Hutchinson and took his body back to Haven to prepare it for burial on that cold December morning. I even recall once a few years before my dad passed away that Bob made an ambulance run in his hearse to tend to the medical needs of my grandma who had been living close by our home out in the country south of town. It sounds strange to think of it in those terms, especially today in 2015 when life has changed so much. But it was what it was and if you were sick or in an accident, you would have been glad to know that Bob Cantwell was on the way to help you.
Cantwell Furniture was on Main Street (really called Kansas Avenue back there) and for years and years when he wasn't busy with the funeral home business, Bob and his good wife Joli sold furniture to the people of Haven and the surrounding communities. Although it was small and with a whole lot less overhead than the store we saw up in Grand Junction yesterday, the Cantwells had plenty of nice things to offer to their customers. One thing I always remember about going in there from time to time was that their price tags didn't reflect a desire to charge "an arm and a leg" to people who wanted to purchase something. Their prices seemed fair and indicative of the kind of people that they were whether it was in their business life or their everyday, normal kind of person one. They did their best to help anyone who might walk through the front door to own a piece of quality furniture. It was plain and simple. The Cantwells were good to people.
Each one.
Every one.
Especially a young woman named Peggy.
Long ago now, nearly 30 years ago as a matter of fact, I was a single and newly divorced 31 year old woman with a little 5 year old son. We were on our own, that little guy and I, trying to survive life on a teacher's salary. We didn't have a lot but we most certainly had enough. The one thing I was missing, as far as household goods went, was a couch. I had looked all over but the prices were out of reach for me at that particular time. Right before giving up ever having one, a good friend suggested that I should try Cantwell's and see what they had to offer. So off I went.
It was a Saturday afternoon and I remember that Bob wasn't at the store, in fact the front door was locked. I called his house and he said he'd come right down and meet me. As I stood inside of the simple showroom there, he talked with me as if he had known me all of my life. As a matter of fact, I can say with a smile on my face that he had. I told him what I was looking for, how much I could spend and that I would probably go to the bank and borrow the money to buy it.
Bob didn't just show me a couch but rather he directed me to groupings of furniture that went well together. Over in the corner, I found what I wanted. It was a beautiful blue floral print sofa and there was even a matching white side chair and blue plaid rocker that was with it. Although I loved it, a first glance at the price tag told me that probably it was out of my pocket book's reach. I'm sure that Bob sensed my concern and before I knew it, he was headed over to the price tag with a marking pen. I will never forget what he told me that day.
"Wait a minute Peggy. I sure thought I had marked that one differently. That's way too much!"
With that, he sliced nearly $200 off of the price.
I told him that I'd take it and not only the sofa but the two chairs as well. My plan was to go to the bank on Monday and borrow the money to pay for it. I asked him if he'd hold it for me and it was then that he said something else, words that choked me up that long ago Saturday afternoon and words that still have a great and profound affect upon me today.
"Don't be going to any bank and borrow money to buy this. They are going to charge you too much interest. I want you to take it today and you can pay me whatever you can each month until you pay it off. I trust you. I know that you are good for your word."
He smiled at me and then shook my hand. I gave him a huge hug and it was as if my own father was standing there beside me.
The couch and the chairs cost $650 all together and were such a well made set of furniture that they lasted me nearly ten years. Three children in all sat on them, bounced up and down on their cushions and gave them a workout. All three pieces looked nearly brand new when I finally gave them away to someone else a decade later. It was quite a deal that Robert Cantwell offered me that day in the summertime of 1986 and I walked away from his store with 3 pieces of furniture that I wish sometimes I still had today. But you know what? I came away with much more than that and the "much more" part is this.
Even though he could have made $200 easily more when he sold those things to me, he chose not to. Even though he could have demanded the money in full before the furniture even left his store, he would not. Even though he himself could have charged me interest and required a first payment before the furniture was mine to take away, it was Bob Cantwell's decision that was not the way he would conduct his business. He believed that I could be trusted and that my word meant something to him. What it all came down to was the fact that Bob saw the "good" in every single person. He saw the potential in everyone he met and he understood all too well that sometimes times are indeed "tight". Bob Cantwell believed in me and his trust in me continued the process of refinement that I have felt each time I have been laid upon God's mighty anvil. Robert Cantwell gave me more than one gift that day and the furniture was the least of it.
I paid Bob $50 every month until the last bit of the bill was taken care of. When the furniture was finally paid off, I went into the store to thank him one last time for what he did for me that day. He smiled and said "You are welcome Peggy."
Bob died in the year 2000 and when I go back to Haven I still think of him every time I drive past the old store that used to be his. That quiet, humble and unassuming gentleman helped a whole lot of people during his stay here.
A young woman named "Peggy Ann" was one of them and I say "thank you" Bob Cantwell.
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