Amy Lu's View

I was feeling harried.

Now it doesn’t take much to stress me out when I’m shopping, and this was a prime irritating retail situation. I was running late for an appointment (totally my own fault for bad time management) and I was waiting in a checkout line and it was taking longer for the customer in front of me to check out than I had anticipated. I THOUGHT I had chosen wisely when I picked my lane (she didn’t seem to have that many items) but I miscalculated as her checkout process was mysteriously complicated. 

So I was anxious, and annoyed, and grumpy, but knew I had no one to blame but myself (which of course made me more irritable). But finally, the young woman in front of me seemed to be wrapping up her payment, when another woman passed by and handed a gift bag to the cashier.

The cashier was caught off guard. “What is this for?” she asked. The two women had a brief exchange I didn’t hear and then the gift giver went on her way. 

Our cashier was visibly moved and paused for a moment. “She gave this to me because my grandson was born premature and he is very sick,” she explained to us. 

“Would you like a hug?” the customer in front of me asked. And when our cashier nodded, the young woman walked around the counter and hugged her, and then her adorable young daughter (around 5?) also hugged the cashier. 

My heart didn’t exactly grow three sizes, but I did stop fixating on my own self-inflicted problems, if only for a moment. 

I was particularly struck by the compassion of the young woman in line ahead of me because she appeared Somali, so I can only imagine the stress and fear she must be currently living with. But this young woman, this young mother, didn’t let the cloud of danger she’s living under (even if she isn’t Somali just the appearance of possibly being Somali makes her a current target of the Trump administration) get in the way of wanting to reach out to a stranger to offer comfort. 

I didn’t hug anyone at Target that day (or probably anywhere–Chad and StanLee aren’t big on hugs, although StanLee likes to wrestle). But I did make an extra effort to be friendly to the cashier when I was being checked out. I didn’t bristle when the cashier (Connie, I learned once I saw her nametag) chatted away about the Starbucks Peppermint Mocha coffee I was buying (I generally don’t like commentary on my food purchases). I sincerely congratulated her when she told me she has recently lost 120 pounds (wow!), and told her I hoped her grandson came home soon. I added that we had a nephew who was born very premature but that he is now eighteen years old and healthy and happy.

I don’t expect that I will ever know how Connie’s grandson is doing (although I could have her as a cashier at Target again) or know if the young woman and her daughter are accosted by I.C.E. I do expect to think about them, at least in passing, whenever I make my Peppermint Mocha coffee, and to feel grateful for witnessing such a fragile moment of connection and compassion. 

I don’t expect to get any better at time management or patience.

*This is the second time I’ve used this title for a post, which I’m pretty sure no one else would notice, but I feel compelled to acknowledge this. I guess it’s good I’ve written about seeing kindness in the wild at least twice!