After dropping my daughters off at school, I decided to get some grocery shopping done before starting the day. I don’t ever shop early, like eight in the morning early. The chore needed to get done, and it was a good distraction from the many thoughts and personal family concerns swirling in my head, lately.
With a list in hand, I strolled into our local grocery store. It was a quiet morning. There weren’t many patrons around, only the workers unloading merchandise onto the shelves. A clerk in the poultry section greeted me, waving a package of drumsticks.
Getting produce and deli, I marched over to the meat department. Perusing the steaks and ground beef section, I couldn’t help but notice how high the prices were. Damn inflation. Suddenly, I felt a chill blow over me, like someone opened a freezer door, and I sneezed. “Bless you,” said a voice behind me. Startled, I turned and faced a medium-height elderly man with a weathered face and graying fluffy hair. He wore a heavy red flannel shirt over camouflage overalls.
“Thank you,” I shivered.
He nodded and moved closer to me as we both faced the beef fridge. “These prices are mighty high for some ground sirloin. How’s anyone supposed to afford this? Gas is up too. Unbelievable.”
Agreeing, I answered turning toward him. “I was thinking the same thing.” The elderly man’s chestnut-colored eyes glistened, making his lined face even more prominent. “I know.”
I could feel the hairs on my arms stand up, so I moved away from him, only to realize he inched even closer. I swiveled to make sure the worker was still at the chicken section. He was, bent over the freezer. A little way off, I saw a couple in the produce section. Okay, at least I’m not alone.
The man straightened, “So, what’s it gonna be? Sirloin or Chuck?”
I picked up a package of 90% lean ground sirloin and inspected it. I had plans to make Sloppy Joe for dinner and I preferred the leaner meat rather than the 70% kind. “Sirloin for me, sir.”
“Aha, is that right? Ok. You don’t have to call me, sir, either.”
“Well—”
“I’m no more sir than that sir,” he pointed to a young clerk bringing out a case of bananas from the back room.
Wrapping my package in a plastic bag, I nodded, absently … plastic wrap, non-dairy cheese, eggs, milk, potato chips … The man reached for a two-pound package of ground chuck. “This looks good for hamburgers.”
“Yep, now you need some burger buns.”
He snapped his finger. “Yes, yes. What do you recommend? Kaiser buns or Rye bread?”
I shrugged. “Um, I prefer the pretzel rolls myself.”
He reflected for a moment, and it dawned on me that the old man was by himself. He didn’t even have a cart. Did he just come into the store for meat? “Never tried pretzel buns before, might though now that you recommend it.”
I grinned, walking away. “You’ll like them.”
Before I could get a few feet away, the elderly man called after me. ”Excuse me, miss?” I went over to him, worried something was wrong. “Thanks for talking to me.” He proceeded to tell me that his wife died a few months back and he took a taxi to shop at the store once a week. The other times, his two granddaughters came by with food. But mostly he was alone and happy to chat with anyone willing to listen.
He explained that he has trouble sleeping at night because he missed his wife of 60 years, and so he looked forward to these trips because his seventy-nine-year-old self can’t drive anymore. He’s pretty healthy except for his prosthetic leg, losing his left leg during the Korean war, even lifting his camouflage pants and showing me the actual prosthetic. It was titanium and under his left kneecap. Pretty impressive.
He reads three newspapers a day. Doesn’t watch TV or own a microwave. Always drinks coffee with two sugars. “Gotta watch the sugar.”
He’s not happy with all the stuff going on in the world, he believes in natural health because his wife was a midwife and natural birth instructor. She would still be living if she hadn’t been in a horrible car accident two years earlier. “… Never the same after that. All sorts of ailments. She was tired of fighting the pain.” He believes in God, even though he’s not religious. And then he pointed to me, “I saw your cross neckless. I knew you were a believer like my wife.”
Excuse me? Back to reality. How long have I been standing here? All I know is that I couldn’t move because I was completely mesmerized by all that he told me. I just smiled. “Um, thanks.
“Well,” the old man sighed, “I rattled too much and must be going.”
I shook my head, “No, you’re fine. It was nice. Thank you for sharing your story. I’m sorry about your wife.”
Then, something weird happened. Are you ready? This elderly man touched my shoulder and said, ‘’I appreciate that. I’ll see her soon. Remember, don’t put your faith in your problems, okay? Put your faith in the miracles,” and then he hobbled off with his two-pound package of ground chuck.
I scratched my head. Who was that man?
I’ll leave it there. It happened folks believe me or not. I have no idea who that man was, where he went, and why he shared all his personal information with me. Me! My sisters will tell me it’s my face – inviting and smiley! I know it sounds cheesy. Whatever it was, I’ll never look at a meat section the same way.
In conclusion, I’d end this post by stating… for just that moment, I was seen, not by the problems I was carrying, but who I am. Who God made me. Flaws and all! Could I be an encourager, an ear, an inviting human spirit to lift another human spirit? Why not?
I know we’re all carrying burdens, some heavier than others. So, let’s be each other’s light. Lifting up instead of breaking one another down. The healing benefits go both ways.
This season, be an “I see you!” person.
Until next time…
Be well. Be safe. Be happy.
This post was inspired by the song, “I see you” by Christian artists Chris Tomlin and Brandon Lake. See the video.
