One late morning a few months ago, I went into the nearby grocery store to pick up some items for lunch. I was moving fast, needing to get back home. I noticed a woman, brown curly hair, thin. She had the store basket tucked into arm and inside her clenched fist were money bills, revealing their various colors to me.
This woman’s face was stern, serious. It was obvious she had a lot on her mind. At the pastry section, where I was filling my bag with fresh bread, she was picking out desserts, carefully-calculating the price of each one. It clicked. She was getting ready for some guests. And I assumed the money clenched inside her tightly bound fist, was all she had to pay for her special lunch.
I said something to her and she snubbed me, not really even acknowledging my presence. Some people aren’t quite sure how to respond to a happy, blonde lady with a weird accent. She went on ahead and I weighed my bread and then went down the drinks aisle.
A few minutes later, I ended up behind her in the check-out line. She watched every item go through the scanner, staring at the price above on the monitor like she was in an eye examination. When the last item went through and the cashier totalled it all up – she was short on cash. Not by much, a couple dollars maybe. She unfolded all her bills and handed them to the cashier and then opened her purse scavenging for loose change. After a few seconds, the cashier asked what she wanted to leave behind.
I don’t usually have cash on me – but thankfully, that day, I did. I pulled out my change and set a few dollars beside the woman and the cashier. “Here. I’ve got some extra change. This should take care of it.” My voice was quiet and I tried to sound as kind as possible but also hoping to downplay it.
The woman and the cashier got confused, like neither of them knew what to do. They stared at me. Then, the woman who was short on money waved her hand fiercely trying not to accept my extra change. I assured her it was not a big deal. “It’s only a couple of dollars. I’m happy to make up the diffference. You go and have a wonderful lunch.”
She came undone. Tears welled up in eyes and she fanned her face, flapped her hand in the air, trembled a little. I reassured her, reaching my hand toward her. “I’m happy to help. I’m sure you’d do the same for me.”
At the time, all I could think, as I watched this woman crumble under the weight of a stranger’s kindness was, “Has life been so cruel to you that you don’t know how to react when someone is gracious?”
She answered my unspoken question. “No one has ever done anything like this for me.” She dabbed at her eyes.
I reached out and toucher her arm again, giving it a tender squeeze. “Please, just go and enjoy your day. Be blessed.”
The woman wanted my number to pay me back, which I refused. And finally she went on her way with all the items she needed for her lunch. Her face had transformed – years melted off.
The cashier checked my purchase. Her eyes were misty and she explained that as a cashier, who sees a lot every day, she had never seen someone something like that – a stranger helping to cover someone’s bill.
I walked out of the store that morning so heavy-hearted. Can it be so hard for people to see the person standing in front of us – in need – and not be moved?
Yes, it can. We grow calloused, jaded, dubious. We judge the scene in front of us, without knowing the backstory.
We grow suspicious that we’re being scammed or tricked and so only choose generosity if we know exactly what’s going to happen with our gift. All the while, we really don’t know anyone’s whole story. How can we? We see in part.
And then I think of the One I’ve chosen to follow, the one whose life I’m supposed to be imitating. He helped people all the time. Jesus healed the ones who asked to be healed. One time he healed ten lepers, and only one came back to thank him. He didn’t withhold his healing hand because they had ungrateful hearts. He didn’t mandate a particular response to his kindness.
Jesus fed five thousand men, plus women and children … knowing full well that even though most would never forget that day, very few would let it transform their lives. He gave anyways …
If we must choose, I say we choose generosity and kindness as our way … It undoes people and changes their faces …
I’d love to hear one of your stories about generosity … It always changes us.
Much Love,
Tina
A beautiful story. The blessings and witness a few pennies can buy. Saturday, a young man was very surprised when my husband stopped to help after his boss’s car died and they were late to their constructions jobs. We gave the young man a ride to his car.
Hi Zoe,
It doesn’t take much, does it? I’m amazed how easy it is to make someone’s day – if we take the time to see them.
Thank you for reading and commenting! So nice to meet you.
Much Love,
Tina
I keep alert to stories where God intervenes in peoples’ lives to use for our church’s Sunday school openings. This is one to share. So thanks. Nice to meet you too.
That’s so nice, Zoe. So happy to connect with you.
Blessings and much love your way,
Tina
We can’t fully know how our acts of kindness touch others or even how far they will travel. There’s joy in the giving, and that is reward enough. I’m so glad you were able to show her compassion when she needed it.
Janalyn,
It’s so true — we have no idea how our acts of kindness touch lives or the long lasting ramifications of them might be. The gift is always being able to see that there is a person with a unique story and choosing to see them and care for them. Fore so any times, the reward is the connection.
Much Love,
Tina
We’ve sometimes had a hard time loving our son’s partner, who gets violent under the influence, a common occurrence during their four years together. An unconstitutional law in our country allows a woman to put a man in jail without proof. That’s what happened to him after her last psychotic interlude in March; he was jailed in June /July– for 30 days. He understands her mental illness, partly thanks to my discoveries that are not yet common knowledge. She is the mother of his beloved children. I did not expect him to go back to her; that would breach the terms of his (thoroughly unjust) probation. He has found his connection to God. He has grown while she treads water. The children’s need for him (two of them facing surgeries) broke him. He was sliding towards substance abuses he’d put behind him. I prayed he would find a way and knew when he’d breached because the little ones were relaxed and happy again. She was happier, too. Caught walking with her on the street late one night, he was arrested again. She tried to deny her identity and was threatened with obstruction of “justice.” They are impoverished; not sure why her government payments are not coming through. His application for assistance has stalled. We add to our mountainous debt to help them. Today, he told me she has cancer surgery in seven days. She has known for weeks, during those tense exchanges when I picked up the Adorables for short visits and bit my tongue not to unload my opinion of what she’d done to our son; our gentle, incredibly forbearing son. The youngest goes for his pre-op six days after her surgery. Our son appears in court Monday, hoping for a remand that will allow him to carry his family past these crises. The Crown wants another 30 days of his life in lock-up. The lawyer won’t speak to him until he obtains legal aid for a retainer. Blessed are the poor in spirit . . . .
My dear Laurna,
Goodness. So much to pray for and about. I will write more soon — but my heart is with and for you and your family and I will pray very specifically for your son — that The Lord will uphold him and his cause.
Yes, blessed are the meek… For the shall inherit the earth.
Much Love,
Tina
Thank you for this comment. You bring such depth to every area. I’m amazed.
And there is a quiet hope in the thought that God is able to redeem all things… That is a good reminder. I often think of the trees that will have healing in their leaves… For the nations.
Much Love to you,
Tina