Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Juice, Part II

If the cashier had only known what I had (or hadn't done) a few weeks earlier he wouldn't have been so impressed. Buying someone's juice was waaaayyy more significant to me than it could have been to either of them. In the words of Paul Harvey, here is the rest of the story:

Joe's family was coming to visit in a few days, our first visitors since our recent move and my supply of guest comfort items had disappeared in the boxes. There are not many perks to relocating, but a small one is the gift cards many pharmacies give away to entice people to fill their prescriptions at their location. So off I went to Walgreens, gift card in hand, ready to buy lotions, loofah sponges, and aromatic scented reeds for my guests - definitely not under the category "necessities", but hopefully a bit hospitable. It was even more fun shopping for these things with the "free money" I had, splurging a bit without the guilt of using my budgeted grocery money. I was in such a good mood that Mak even got to toss in her favorite impulse buy - a pack of orange tic-tacs.

We were waiting in a short line to check out - one woman in front of me waiting to buy cigarettes, and a man with two small boys was in front of her. I am often chastised by my husband for eavesdropping on conversations, but this one was hard to miss. The cashier told the man the total for his groceries (I couldn't help but look in his cart, he had nothing too extravagant - bread, cereal, eggs, diapers among other things) and he paused, apologized, and said he needed to quickly check his account. He put the youngest boy down and stepped over to the ATM by the door. When he came back he apologized again and said he would have to come back in a few days after he gets paid. I listened and watched, felt mildly uncomfortable, a little embarrassed for the guy who now was also dealing with an upset 5 year old who had to leave his Captain Crunch behind, but didn't move and was just waiting for my turn at the check-out.

The woman gets her cigarettes and it is finally my turn. As the cashier is scanning my items I'm still thinking about the guy and his boys...feeling sad for that dad...that the economy must really be hitting some people hard...wondering what they are going to do for bread for the next few days...when she asks if I am going to pay with cash or credit. Only then do I look down and see the $25.00 gift card I am holding in my hand. I watched that entire scene as if I was watching a reality T.V. show. Completely detached, and completely unaware of my ability to do something to change the situation - and I did nothing. Just watched. It would have been so easy and non-intrusive to just hand that guy the gift card. No words even needed to be exchanged, just help him out a bit. I would have to make the decision to still get the lotions, etc. or use my "real money", but give me a break. The guy needed bread and diapers and I did nothing.

For me, buying someone's juice is an insignificant price to pay for not being numb to the world around me anymore. I am so tired of just watching things happen and wondering who is going to take care of it. I'm a big girl now, it's my turn.

1 comment:

mama becca said...

amen sister.
faith without works is dead. it's a hard lesson to learn, until it stares you in the face. no, we can't "earn salvation" with "works" but we are called to be the "hands and feet"... right?
again, sending my love to all the farrells!