Saturday, May 04, 2013

My Brother's Keeper

Sometimes, I think it's helpful to see myself as my brother's keeper when out and about in the world at large.

Like the other day at Costco.

I was cruising through the store, kid-free, knowing exactly what I needed and exactly where it was. As I powered up the bread aisle, I overheard a pleasant-looking 70-something gentleman asking another shopper."...gluten free bread? I've been up and down this aisle for 30 minutes now, but she told me I wasn't allowed to come home without it." Though he was smiling, there was a slightly-panicky note in his voice, like, "I don't really like shopping at Costco on a Friday morning with half the state of Wyoming, but I might never get out of here!"

Since gf bread was on my list, I leaned over to interject myself into the conversation of which I was not an invited member (this is where my "brother's keeper" mentality overrides my "mind your own business" mode). "It's on the end cap, up there on the left."

This man, if you could have seen the look on his face, you'd still be giggling, too. It was like he'd been given a real-life "get out of jail free" card. Sometimes people don't like it much when we inject ourselves into their lives. But, sometimes, I get to be a "brother's keeper" and it makes both of our days.


Melodee Skiles said...

Not long ago I was trying and failing to find orzo in the pasta aisle. As I combed the aisle for the third time, I had to apologize for holding up the older lady behind me. She found out what I was looking for, and as I gave up and started leaving the aisle, she backtracked and found the only remaining box, tucked behind some others. Since I was almost out of the aisle, other shoppers had to relay the news up to me that she had found it for me. The whole aisle was smiling as I thanked her and joked about "community shopping." And thanks to her being my "keeper," at that moment, every one in the crowded aisle felt part of a community and everyone loved it. It was just a box of orzo, but it was kind of a transcendent moment, all the same. :)

Tori R said...

This was lovely, thanks for sharing this