| I read this story on LDS.org and it really had me
thinking so much about what this time of year is about
... and it reminds me of how in simple ways we can be
examples of kindness to those around us wether it be
the way in which this lady was or by helping a young
mother who has her hands full in a store or carrying
a bag of groceries for someone who can not do it themselves
or shoveling the driveway for an elderly or single neighbor.
We can just step outside of ourselves.
Hero at the Grocery Store
by Stephenie Meyer
Suddenly everyone was quiet. Even my rowdy children
paused, feeling the change in the atmosphere.
Christmas stories happen in the most everyday places.
I was part of one not long ago at the grocery store.
I hope I never forget it, though the memory is bittersweet.
I had been shopping for almost an hour by the time
I got to the checkout lines. My two youngest sons
were with me, the four-year-old refusing to hold onto
the cart, the two-year-old trying to climb out of
the basket and jump down to play with his brother.
Both got progressively whinier and louder as I tried
to keep them under control, so I was looking for the
fastest lane possible. I had two choices. In the first
line were three customers, and they all had just a
few purchases. In the second line was only one man,
a harried young father with his own crying baby, but
his cart was overflowing with groceries.
I quickly looked over the three-person line again.
The woman in the front was very elderly, white haired
and rail thin, and her hands were shaking as she tried
unsuccessfully to unlatch her big purse. In the other
line, the young father was throwing his food onto
the conveyor belt with superhuman speed. I got in
line behind him.
It was the right choice. I was able to start unloading
my groceries before the elderly woman was even finished
paying. My four-year-old was pulling candy from the
shelf, and my little one was trying to help by lobbing
cans of soup at me. I felt I couldnt get out
of the store fast enough.
And then, over the sound of the stores cheery
holiday music, I heard the checker in the other line
talking loudly, too loudly. I glanced over as my hands
kept working.
No, Im sorry, the checker was almost
shouting at the old woman, who didnt seem to
understand. That card wont work. You are
past your limit. Do you have another way to pay?
The tiny old woman blinked at the checker with a confused
expression. Not only were her hands shaking now, but
her shoulders too. The teenage bagger rolled her eyes
and sighed.
As I caught a soup can just before it hit my face,
I thought to myself: Boy, did I choose the right
line! Those three are going to be there forever.
My mood was positively smug as my checker began scanning
my food.
But the smiling woman directly in line behind the
elderly lady had a different reaction. Quietly, with
no fanfare, she moved to the older womans side
and ran her own credit card through the reader.
Merry Christmas, she said softly, still
smiling.
And then everyone was quiet. Even my rowdy children
paused, feeling the change in the atmosphere.
It took a minute for the older woman to understand
what had happened. The checker, her face thoughtful,
hesitated with the receipt in her hand, not sure whom
to give it to. The smiling woman took it and tucked
it into the elderly womans bag.
I cant accept
the older
woman began to protest, with tears forming in her
eyes.
The smiling woman interrupted her. I can afford
to do it. What I cant afford is not to do it.
Let me help you out, the suddenly respectful
bagger insisted, taking the basket and also taking
the old womans arm, the way she might have helped
her own grandmother.
I watched the checker in my line pause before she
pressed the total key to dab at the corner of her
eyes with a tissue.
Paying for my groceries and gathering my children,
I made it out of the store before the smiling woman.
I had made the right choice of lanes, it seemed.
But as I walked out into the bright December sunshine,
I was not thinking about my luck but about what I
could not afford.
I could not afford my current, self-absorbed frame
of mind.
I could not afford to have my children learn lessons
of compassion only from strangers.
I could not afford to be so distant from the spirit
of Christ at any time of the yearespecially
during this great season of giving.
I could not afford to let another stranger, another
brother or sister, cross my path in need of help without
doing something about it.
And that is why I hope never to forget the Christmas
hero in the grocery store. The next time I have a
chance to be that kind of a hero, I cant afford
to miss it.
|