By CAROL A. CLARKWith Christmas arriving month after next I am reminded of an incident I encountered last year in the checkout line at Smith’s.
A teenage boy whose eyes sparkled with that Christmas Eve magic was emptying his cart onto the conveyor belt. Gifts for the family, snacks and a holiday cake moved toward the checker. I remember thinking how excited and proud he appeared. I wondered if this was his first year working, making money to treat his parents and siblings to a Christmas celebration.
He beamed as he inserted his shiny new credit card into the slot. It was declined. He froze. His bill was more than $100. Clearly mortified, he stood staring helplessly at the checker.
An older woman standing between him and me spoke up softly, “I’ll take care of this” she said as she inserted her card in the slot. The teenager and the checker stared at her in stunned silence. The teenager couldn’t seem to speak. Choking back tears as he gained his composure he whispered his gratitude and left the store with a magnificent story to share at Christmas dinner.
The woman smiled back at him, then paid for her own items and left the store. She never uttered a word and I suspect she has never shared that story with anyone. I also suspect the teen wasn’t the first nor last recipient of her selfless compassion.
Her incredible kindness felt like a gift to all of us that day. As I moved to my place at the front of the line, the checker looked at me teary eyed and said, “that gave me chills” …
