The end-of-year holidays usually have people in a more giving mood…or at least giving mode. We’ve learned it is the season of giving. But do we do it with a grateful heart?
I recently moved to a 55-plus community. Thursdays are senior citizen days at the local grocery store I walk to. I seriously enjoy the discount, but not always the crowds. Some of these ladies played roller derby in the day…just saying.
For checkout, I’d rather wait in line than try to find the bar codes to scan myself, which was a good call this particular day because I think there was a WWE match going down at self-checkout. Or maybe a hockey match, but it was more than prune juice getting checked.
While I chatted with the cashier, who needed conversation and eye contact coaching, I heard the person behind me huff and begin a staccato foot tapping. I turned and smiled, expecting one of my neighbors, but it was a young woman. She tried to type on her phone but got frustrated because her manicured nails kept getting in the way.
That’s when I noticed there was no beeping going on at the register. I turned to find my cashier, who still avoided my gaze.
“I’ll need to get a price on this. It ain’t ringing up right.” I desperately wanted to correct the grammar, but the loud “Seriously?” from the woman in line behind me kept me silent. Then she plopped her gallon of whole milk on the ledge and focused both hands on her texting.
“Ring the milk on mine, and don’t worry about the granola. I’ll get it next time,” I whispered to the young cashier. She didn’t flinch, as if this was normal, and placed the milk in a plastic bag.
“Here you go, ma’am. Happy Holidays from this lady here,” the cashier said as hair hung in her downcast eyes.
The woman behind me lifted her gaze from her phone long enough to blink a few times and glance from me to the bag, then to the now-shaking skinny arm of the cashier. Miss Impatience took the offered bag and looked me square in the eye.
“Thank you. Really. Thank you.” She placed her phone in her pocket, and I was afraid she was reaching in for a Southern hug, but it was only her shoulders relaxing. We were both relieved for different reasons.
The story played in my mind for several days. It had taken little for me to relieve this woman’s stress. If buying a gallon of milk for a stranger could make that much difference, what would happen if I shared the gift of Jesus? If I’m truly grateful for the gift of salvation, shouldn’t I desire to share it with everyone I meet?
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What a good ending!! I’ve been that huffing, tapping woman in the past, but due to whiny customers. I really have to remind myself to chill and think in these lines. Thanks for the post!
We’re all guilty. Frustrations run high, especially at the holidays!
I can just hear and see you doing this. Always one to put others needs before your own.
I had a good teacher…