Abbey's Road: How an anonymous gift of new bib overalls showed me generosity

Once upon a time, not so long ago, I was admiring online a pair of floral-bib overalls that were way out of my price range and felt, frankly, quite extravagant for a person who buys most of her clothing from thrift stores.

They were made by a company I admire because it uses actual, real-life women in its ads — women who do gritty stuff, like heaving crates of vegetables into the backs of pickup trucks, standing at the helm of fishing boats with water splashing up over the sides and going on hikes in the remote regions of the Rockies; stuff like that.

So this company makes a pair of gardening overalls with flowers and gnomes all over them, and I’ve admired this particular pair of overalls for a long time, knowing I would never be willing to spend the money on them, but also that if I were to win the lottery and give some to God, some to the bank and some to my kids’ college funds, and if I had any left over after that, this pair of bibs would be my first priority.

Abbey's Road: How a spring break library trip led to a purr-fect addition to the Roy family

Since Facebook already knows all this about me and baited me with an ad one afternoon, I decided to cave and posted the following on my page, along with a photo just for fun:

“I mean I already have dreams of becoming a Fargo Trading Co. model because those ladies rock, but if they would pay me with these overalls (in a long inseam) I would be set for life.”

It was a fun post, not meant to accomplish anything except acknowledging that I like goofy gardening overalls, even if I can’t afford them.

I figured that would be the end of the story, until I was checking my email that evening and saw one that gave me pause:

“Bill has sent you an e-gift card for (insert dollar amount of overalls here) from Fargo Trading Co.”

I called my dad, whose name is Bill, right away.

“Dad, thanks so much! You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” he asked.

“Send me a gift card for those crazy overalls I posted on Facebook! You didn’t have to do that. But it was really nice of you!”

“Ab, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You didn’t send me a gift card for (insert dollar amount here)?”

“Nope, I did not.”

Awkward silence.

“OK then. Gotta go!”

“Good luck!”

Abbey's Road: Witnessing history with loved ones during a once-in-a-lifetime solar eclipse

I went back and reread the email, then found where it included an email address where I could send a thank-you. After looking that one over, I unwittingly figured out the mystery gifter, who had chosen to use a pseudonym in order to remain anonymous.

I sent them an email of thanks and told them that their generosity was an encouragement to my heart; that whenever I put on the overalls, I will remember to likewise be generous.

The pattern on them reminds me of someone special — a fellow outdoorswoman who has since passed away but who I know would have worn the bibs equally well. So well, in fact, that I can distinctly picture her in them.

All of this I shared with “Bill,” whose generosity came during a hard week and was just the bright spot I needed.

In the weeks since the overalls came, I’ve been able to wear them in my garden, dividing up plants to share with others and to the ice rink during my kids' practices, where they’ve brought smiles and questioning looks to faces who either know the story behind them or don’t.

I guess if I’d have won the lottery and bought them for myself, I could feel proud or goofy or whatever when I put them on.

But this is infinitely better, because whenever it’s a bibs day, I remember “Bill’s” generosity and it prompts me to be generous.

I like to tell the story because it reminds me that generosity doesn’t come with a (insert dollar amount) price tag, either. It doesn’t cost money to speak into someone’s life; buying a cup of coffee can be relatively inexpensive; passing along plants from your garden is basically free.

A lot of it is about the posture of your heart on any given day: Are you looking for someone who could use a kind word or a cup of coffee today? What are you going to do about it — I include myself in this exhortation — to make the world feel a little bit more beautiful?

This is your reminder to be like “Bill.” Go and do that thing today. You never know who might need it.

P.S.: The name of actual company has been changed because I prefer to live my life in relative obscurity.

Abbey Roy is a mom of three girls who make every day an adventure. She writes to maintain her sanity. You can probably reach her at amroy@nncogannett.com, but responses are structured around bedtimes and weekends.

This article originally appeared on Newark Advocate: Abbey's Road: Thanks to a mysterious gift, there's proof of generosity