Checking Out

The pile to scan was significant. For the life of me I could not understand what the checker’s problem was. Scan the sucker already! Come on lady just drag it over the glass. I wondered if she could work any slower. Maybe slow motion was a requirement to work at this superstore. Lady please, It doesn’t matter what kind of bag you use, just put it in a bag – please! Ugh! Where do they find these people? Cold molasses moved faster than this lady!
****
Hiking boots with no socks. Drab gray sweats pulled up to the knees. A dirty yellow sweat shirt hid curves that were long gone. Dirty hair incased a face containing a set of dull lifeless eyes. Between the checker and the customer I could not figure out which one was more irritating. They were a perfectly matched pair.
The customer’s tired eyes came up and hers met mine. A slight change – I almost missed it but there it was - pain. Curiosity swept aside my irritation. I began watching her and wondered what her story was. Maybe she was a single mom with a bunch a kids and now worn out, here she was doing her last task of the day getting some needed shopping done. Or, maybe she was homeless. Her attire fit that idea pretty well. She was having a difficult time. A simple decision of where to place each bag in the cart was a struggle. Finally, the checker finished the packing and her transaction was complete. With many unanswered questions my eyes followed her slow shuffle toward the door.
My attention switched back to the checker mesmerized now by her slow methodical pace. If the eyes are truly the window into the soul, this ladies eyes screamed with exhaustion.
My turn had finally come, no one had stacked up behind me and an announcement came over the intercom that the store would be closing soon. The checker in her late fifties began unhurriedly scanning my items. Looking at a face with no expression I asked, “Have you had a hard day?”
“Yes, it has been a long day, 10 hours today.”
“Ouch, have you been on your feet the whole time?”
“No, I get breaks. The problem isn’t here; it’s my 93 year old mother who lives with me. We cannot afford help so, I am her caregiver. I bathe her, fix her meals, all before this job. It is a heavy burden.” The checker’s accent was full and I am not sure of the order or what exactly followed or how the information came to be uttered but I gleaned her mother had been a great musician in her native country, maybe Sri Lanka.
“Do you play music also?”
A smile broke across her tired face and a sparkle brightened her eyes causing them to dance. “Oh yes, I play the piano and I sing. I love music.” More was said that I did not understand but energy had replaced the doldrums in the lady. She all at once seemed younger and if I wasn’t smiling on the outside, I for sure was smiling on the inside – what a transformation in both of us!
Gathering up my bags, “Thank you for helping me this evening, did you know your whole face sparkles with life when you talk about music?”
A smile and an embarrassed but grateful slight nod was my answer. She gave a simple low wave from her hip as I turned and left the store.
What a change of attitude – my irritation was gone. A short connection had been made. The interchange had been no more than a minute or two but it had more value to me than the contents in my bag. Driving home I wondered how many times I miss it in my rush or my irritation.
Could these short vignettes be times when Jesus shows up and hands me a gift? And maybe even says, “These are the ones I went to the cross for Grayquill, if you would love a bit more maybe I would show up a bit more often. And, who knows maybe more than a moment would pass between us - I know I would like that.”
Me to…!

Molly Hightower a Shining Light

Molly Hightower died in the earthquake that hit Haiti on January 12th. She has lived in Haiti for the last 7 months. She is a person I probably would never have heard of if this tragedy had not happened. Molly was quietly working in a very unglamorous job in an orphanage which housed many handicapped children. One of her principle duties was to teach these children to swim but from her blog she is seen doing physical therapy in a variety of other areas.
I was motivated to write about her for two reasons. I have a daughter who did a similar work several years ago and I can remember the fears I faced as a father the many months she was away. I can only try to imaging the pain Mr. and Mrs. Hightower are feeling this morning as I write this piece.
My primary reason for this writing is so Molly’s shinning light of a life might be seen by a few others and they might be encouraged by how, good, people can be in a world where hate seems to fill the news headlines.
Molly’s life of love stands in stark contrast to the hate filled lives of today’s Muslim extremist. The difference is more dramatic than the brightest day compared to the darkest night. This 22 year old girl has inspired me and I want to live better because of her story. I hope it will inspire you in the same way.
Molly has a blog called 525,600 Minutes. The title says a lot about Molly and how she lived life. The blog title came from a song that asks the question, what would you do if you only had a year to live (525,600 minutes). Molly did not get all those minutes but she knew what she was about and she knew what the main point was. May her life galvanize us to focus on the main point and live life with purpose.
May God bless and comfort the Hightower family in this very sad week and the weeks to come.
Here is a link to Molly’s blog. She tells her own story much better than I could.
http://mollyinhaiti.blogspot.com/

Why we write?

When we are in pain we write – I heard someone say this once and I found it interesting and believe it to be true. I think there are probably some who write for the love of writing. I have a tendency to be a bit jealous of those people, their words flow like a feather pushed along by a soft breeze skipping here and there smoothly, almost lyrical.
I started writing mostly out of boredom, wanting to improve my writing skills but I admit it was 'pain' that started the keys clicking. In an attempt to release this pain a book began to emerge and now lies hidden in a cob webbed corner of my computer. The quality of the writing was horrible but it served a purpose and maybe someday when I have retired and have learned to write and have gained some wisdom the story will be rewritten.
This Christmas I compiled many of my blog posts into a book for my kids. Later I joked with a friend that my first book was a smashing success, it sold out the first day, all seven copies. As I read through my old posts I could not help notice how some of the pieces flowed along smoothly while others were disjointed and it was as if they ran sideways down a crooked trail. The smoother pieces encouraged me and the crooked ones well let’s just say I am grateful that my fellow bloggers are gentle with me when these posts have been posted. Sorry!
The trouble with just writing and hoping that writing alone will improve a person’s skill is kind of like the person who boasted proudly, I have twenty years experience at my trade. The trouble was he was horrible at his trade. His problem…he really only had one year experience. He repeated the 1st year 19 times.
This is my 100th post and for my writing to improve my next 100 posts will not be repeats of the first 100. You can expect more risk, more failure, more openness, more success, and if I succeed I will touch your hearts and hear your laughter more often and at a greater depth.
So here I sit blogging along, with hope sitting on my shoulder encouraging me. I have learned my fellow blogger friends will tell me when the words have touched their funny bone or strummed the strings of their heart; one thing is for sure their comments always encourage me.
If you are reading this, thank you for coming this way, and for putting forth the effort to read to the end. I appreciate each and every one of you. If you care…you are helping me. Thanks!

The Foolish Atheist

This is my effort in converting all you Atheists out there into being true believers.

Living in modern day 2010 is simply the best! With all our amazing technological advances around us, possibly the greatest advance of all is Garbage Day!
Upon arriving home tonight my first task was to roll my stuffed garbage can out to the street; a simple task that took a mere few minutes. Tomorrow, while I am at work, magic will happen, I will arrive home in the evening and shazam the garbage can will be empty. It doesn’t get much better than that. Even though this magic happens every week and I should be use to it, I am not. I find it a wonder that rain or shine, snow or sleet, my garbage can is empty every Tuesday when I get home.
Yeah sure, if I stopped paying the bill the wonder would stop but the bill is paid and tomorrow will be an awesome day. Oh… there are those times I forget what day it is and the tub doesn’t make it to the street but that just gives me hope that somewhere some scientist has had the same problem and is diligently working in his lab solving the dilemma. Heck within the next fifty years technology will probably have advanced to the point where I won’t even have to remember garbage day. That will be like being in heaven and of course in fifty years that is exactly where I will be – now that has to make a believer smile even on his worst day.
Mr. Blunt Edges, there you go, that ought to make a believer out of you, or not. HAH! Go ahead be stubborn take your garbage out for eternity.

Mr. Blunt Edges I think I Hate You

Sometime back, Mr. Blunt Edges tagged me and gave my blog an award. Thanks, I guess. Normally I don’t respond to these tags and this one has taken me a bit of time. Mainly I think these tags are boring but the biggest reason I haven’t done one, they seem like way to much work. I really can’t explain why Mr. Edges was able to manipulate me into doing this but I have decided to spend zero energy in trying to analyze his ploy further. I will do the sevenpart of the tag – but I gotta tell you, I am bit cranky about it.
Here goes… Seven things you don’t know about me.
1) Unlike Blunt Edges I am not an Atheist – Opps I guess maybe you knew that already about me. Even so, I am not changing my number one, it will remain.
2) Like Mr. Edges – I hate kids. I can remember worrying before I had kids if I would like them. Since then I have discovered for the most part kids are great once I bond with them or have some kind of connection. But, if you and your kid are in front of me in line at the grocery store I will pretty much hate you and your kid unless said kids are well behaved.
3) I am Blunt Edges 49th and maybe his 50th follower. Thank you – no applause is necessary.
4) I am a morning person – and have been known to jump up and down on the bed singing, “get up, get up, get out of your bed and open up your eyes and see the shinny skies.” All in an effort to wake up Mrs. Grayquill so we can play – FYI: this tactic has never been successful and I have not tried the tactic for years. Hmmm….maybe I give it another spin, who knows...maybe it will work out better for me after all these years. I wonder if I still have the talent of jumping and singing at the same time?
5) I am with Blunt Edges words – “can’t figure out why, the world’s crazy over Angelina Jolie. Ok, she acts well, but sexiest lady in the world? NO WAY!” BTW: Mr. Edges - The sexist woman would be Mrs. Grayquill of course.
6) I have a weird habit of NOT noticing minute details in movies like. For example, according to Blunt Edges, did you know that in Rang De Basanti (that must be a movie), Karan’s (played by Siddharth) character’s first and last line in the movie (oh, it is a movie) is ‘Nautanki Saala’ – - - Who would be so weird to notice such things? Could his initials be B.E.? I think us folks in the USA are missing some good movies.
7) I take complete credit for ‘converting’ Blunt Edges to writing with complete words on his blog; at least upon occasion. Yesiknowotherspliedtheirencouragementtohimbutwearenotcountingthoseeffortsforthisscenario.
Well now I have completed a tag and it will be a cold day in a very hot place before I ever do this again … Blunt Edges I think I hate you.

A Child's Christmas List

Four year old little B could hardly sit still while her mommy braided her hair. She was so excited, any moment her daddy would be home from work and they were going Christmas shopping for her mommy, four aunts and two grandmas. In her pocket was a clear zip-lock baggie that contained her life savings, $1.65. All day as the ideas popped into B’s head, out they came, “maybe I will get you a new pair of shoes mommy or maybe a new coat, would you like a new dress mommy? I know… a new purse – maybe I will get you a blue one.
Grayquill did not know this shopping expedition included the Aunts and Grandmas. If he had known such a monstrous task was before him it is unlikely his excitement would have matched his daughters’ enthusiasm. Mrs. Grayquill stood watching at the window, worry lines pressed her lips as the two drove off.
“B, have you thought what store you want to go to first?”
“A store that has slippers and purses; I think I will get mommy a blue purse and maybe I will get slippers for grandma and maybe a shirt for Aunt T and Aunt B”
Grayquill was not caught off guard seeing that a four year old does not exactly have a perfect concept of money. “B, a new purse will be pretty expensive, I don’t think you will have enough money for a purse.” B didn’t even hear her daddy’s words. Her excitement continued rattling off who and what different people would get.
Grayquill pulled the car into a parking spot and soon they were inside a large department store. Grayquill decided he would have to show B she did not have the funds for her large list. Arriving after sometime in front of the purses they began perusing the choices. “B, let me see your money.” B pulled out her little bag of money. “See this purse B? If you had 10 bags of money just like this one, you would not have enough money to buy this purse.” B, was quiet for a minute the wheels spinning.
“Okay…Maybe I will get slippers for mommy, let’s go look at slippers.” Off the two went to look for slippers. Here the exercise was repeated. “B, you will need 6 bags of money to buy these slippers. I think we should go to the Dollar Store, maybe we can find something nice for your mom there.”
B, was up for that idea because the Dollar Store was one of her favorite stores. Arriving, they worked their way up and down the aisles. Soon B found a little glass horse that she thought her Aunt T would like. “B, if you buy that for your Aunt T, you will not be able to buy your mother a present here, you see you need 4 bags of money to buy something at this store for everyone on your list. Maybe you should just buy your mom something and for your grandmas and aunts, maybe you could paint them a picture.” B, shook her head in a firm no but she slowly put the glass horse back on the shelf. B’s eyes starred down at the floor and without another word B turned and Grayquill followed his little daughter out of the store.
Back in the car Grayquill was at a loss where to go next. Finally in desperation, Grayquill pulled into a large drug store. This store had some small trinkets and it was a good place to buy filler for the stockings. Maybe here they could find something. Up and down the aisles they walked. After leaving the last store B’s mood had become much more serious and she had stopped talking unless spoken to. She was realizing her $1.65 was not going to buy even one of the nice gifts she had envisioned let alone gifts for her aunts and grandmas. Grayquill looked at her and at one point thought she was going to cry.
After several more conversations about not enough money the two once again started up isle number three. A shelf held some small tea candles on sale, 10 for a dollar in several different colors. “B, what about candles, you know how your mother likes candles. You have enough money for candles and you even have enough money so that you could buy candles for your grandmas and aunts.” For a minute B just stood there staring. Grayquill held his breath because if this didn’t work he didn’t know what he would do.
A long silence went by, then B said, “Blue ones for mommy, Aunt T likes yellow, Grandma B, white,” and carefully B started stacking and laying out the small candles in neat rows. When she was done she had seven rows, colors separated, all tallied and organized for the chosen recipient. Some got only one candle but her mommy got 5. The excitement and energy had returned. B told the cashier all about who the candles were for and how she was buying these with her own money. B laid all of her coins out on the counter and when it was all said and done, B had 6 cents left.
On the way home, Grayquill gave final instructions, “B, now don’t tell your mom what you bought her, it needs to be a secret, that way you mommy will be so surprised when she opens her gifts. Can you keep it a secret?”
“Yes.”
Immediately upon arriving home, B with the package under her arm rushed into the house. She yelled running past her mom toward her bedroom, “I got you a present mommy, I can’t tell you what color the candles are.”
D’OH!

Lazy Bad Men

Men being bad and lazy come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. This morning at breakfast with the guys, conversation rolled along and at some point stories began being tossed back and forth of times when money was tight, creativity was fresh and boundaries of impropriety did not hold back less than impeccable conduct – all in the effort to make a lady think fondly of us men.
Here are a few highlights - - -
#1 Flowers for his lady from the dumpster behind the neighborhood flower shop – Friday the old flowers went in the dumpster and the new flowers arrived. This is my second favorite, it is almost brilliant!
#2 Flowers from the cemetery. After all – the poor soul has little or no use for them. If one looks carefully the flowers can be fairly fresh and FREE! Hmmm… I have a cemetery close by.
#3 This idea seemed good on the surface but ended badly for the husband. A man bought a contract from a flower company to have flowers delivered every Monday for a year to his wife. By week three she was board and the flowers were meaningless. He planned ahead but lost the benefit of, “Oh! You thought of me, you think I am special,” factor. There is also the, “I am no more important than something to be checked off your list.” This particular case won the bone head award – First he spent all that money and got nothing from it – reason enough to push it to the top of things never to do list.
#4 Valentine’s day – The gift was bought the day before Valentine’s Day but only because he happened to stop at an intersection where a guy was selling stuff alongside the road and it was convenient – her comment with almost tears in her eyes, “you planned ahead” – correct male response – smile and nod.
#5 The best way to buy your lady a gift – call the sales lady at your wife’s favorite store. Give the sales lady a price range, ask her to pick something out, wrap it, and request it be left with the door man. This way you can get said gift without actually going into a store or mall and maybe without even getting out of your car. Excellent time management and was deemed likely to have a high success ratio with the ladies. Think about it - Its wrapped and will probably even have ribbon or a bow on it somewhere. This will even work for the procrastinator.
Ahhh…Christmas is just around the corner. What should I do?