Day 6: I found a quiet beauty in the most unexpected place.
I found a quiet beauty in the most unexpected place. I entered my local Walmart on the side opposite the groceries, no need for that kind of crazy on this mission. It was half a barren desert and the other side teeming with life.
I walked with C in hand, no perusing the toy aisles today. We walked straight to the part with tools and potions and gadgets for the home, the essential things that you never consider, like a carbon monoxide detector, read yesterday's post for that story.
It was a scene from one of those shows that was entertaining once upon a time. One of those shows that probably feels less escapist-entertainment this week. Carts were everywhere with random items forgotten and dismissed. It didn't really matter.
One employee stood unloading a box and he saw the look in my eyes, eyes hunting and not finding.
This is not a diatribe of the level of customer service that we have come to expect at such places, not today.
He offered to help and directed me to my location, but he didn't stop there, he walked around the corner and made sure I found what I needed. Hello, I know that's basic operating skills and everything, but here's a mustard seed of goodness in a superstore wasteland.
I decided to be on the lookout, a collector of light and I saw it in the friendly associate who called my daughter a beautiful princess. I saw it in the long lines of people who were not even the least bit bothered by the existence of those ahead of them. You know the feeling that we exude from with dramatic breaths and unfriendly eyes, our greatest inconvenience for others who are standing in a place we want to be.
On day six I saw people with eyes full of humanity. They were certainly worried and weary, but everywhere eyes extended grace and gentle smiles to whomever crossed their paths. It was strangely overwhelming and absolutely stunning. Dare I say, holy?
Two older ladies made conversation in line, their carts held the same type of blush boxed wine and Diet Pepsi, essentials they declared with a chuckle. They discussed the personal care items that were being loaded on the conveyor belt, for mom in the nursing home. The cashier, wearing gloves, echoed that is was so hard staying away from her father, but that he promised he was okay. C charmed everyone with the colorful package in her hands, declaring loudly, "SUPER PLAY DOH IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY!" We all laughed and I saw a few drops of joy drip from softening eyes. Worry lines relaxed at check out 14 for just a moment on a Tuesday morning in a world of fear.
And every last person I saw, both shoppers and store associates alike wished those around wellness and safety. We walked into the parking lot, with a blustery spring wind sweeping across our faces.
I don't know what in the actual world is going on, but there is nothing so radiant as collectively remembering that we are all people together.
I walked with C in hand, no perusing the toy aisles today. We walked straight to the part with tools and potions and gadgets for the home, the essential things that you never consider, like a carbon monoxide detector, read yesterday's post for that story.
It was a scene from one of those shows that was entertaining once upon a time. One of those shows that probably feels less escapist-entertainment this week. Carts were everywhere with random items forgotten and dismissed. It didn't really matter.
One employee stood unloading a box and he saw the look in my eyes, eyes hunting and not finding.
This is not a diatribe of the level of customer service that we have come to expect at such places, not today.
He offered to help and directed me to my location, but he didn't stop there, he walked around the corner and made sure I found what I needed. Hello, I know that's basic operating skills and everything, but here's a mustard seed of goodness in a superstore wasteland.
I decided to be on the lookout, a collector of light and I saw it in the friendly associate who called my daughter a beautiful princess. I saw it in the long lines of people who were not even the least bit bothered by the existence of those ahead of them. You know the feeling that we exude from with dramatic breaths and unfriendly eyes, our greatest inconvenience for others who are standing in a place we want to be.
On day six I saw people with eyes full of humanity. They were certainly worried and weary, but everywhere eyes extended grace and gentle smiles to whomever crossed their paths. It was strangely overwhelming and absolutely stunning. Dare I say, holy?
Two older ladies made conversation in line, their carts held the same type of blush boxed wine and Diet Pepsi, essentials they declared with a chuckle. They discussed the personal care items that were being loaded on the conveyor belt, for mom in the nursing home. The cashier, wearing gloves, echoed that is was so hard staying away from her father, but that he promised he was okay. C charmed everyone with the colorful package in her hands, declaring loudly, "SUPER PLAY DOH IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY!" We all laughed and I saw a few drops of joy drip from softening eyes. Worry lines relaxed at check out 14 for just a moment on a Tuesday morning in a world of fear.
And every last person I saw, both shoppers and store associates alike wished those around wellness and safety. We walked into the parking lot, with a blustery spring wind sweeping across our faces.
I don't know what in the actual world is going on, but there is nothing so radiant as collectively remembering that we are all people together.
"Pay attention to the quality of time. The Kairos-ness of time. And in a way I think the phrase keep time. You can think of keeping time in the normal sense as keeping to the meter of the music, but music, in a way, is saying keep time in another way-- keep it, keep in touch with it, keep your hands on it somehow. Keep in touch with the sadness of your own time, with the joy of time, with the marvelousness of time, with the terror of time, with the emptiness of time, with the fullness of time."
-Frederick Buechner, The Remarkable Ordinary
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