Saturday morning, I readied the girls and headed to the grocery store. Of all of the errands I run, grocery shopping ties with getting gas as something I wish I could pay someone else to handle.
My regular store recently rearranged everything, and I have yet to get my bearings. Add to that the fact that I accidentally deleted my list, and grocery shopping temporarily clinches the No.1 spot on my list of least-favorite things to do.
My eldest, however loves it. So I try to keep a chipper attitude as we wander the aisles. I waited patiently as Mini Me studied the Pop-Tarts while Lil Ma tried to eat a raisins box (not to be confused with a box of raisins).
Even with a couple of back tracks, we made it through the store in about 20 minutes and found a cashier with no line.
Our cart wasn't overflowing, but things never fit back into it once they're bagged. I asked Mini Me to get another cart.
She looked concerned. "You mean I have to walk out the door and back in?"
I sighed. "Yes, but I can see you." Mini didn't look convinced.
"You can have mine." A voice from behind me said. I turned and saw an older gentleman. He was medium build with dark brown skin and a gentle expression. Most of his face was covered by a trucker's hat and those oversized frames that grandpas wear. He had about five items on the conveyor belt.
I thanked him and passed the cart to the bagger. When I turned back to the cashier to pay, he was holding out two one-dollar bills.
"Please give these to your girls," he said. "They're so precious, and they remind me of my own grandkids."
He really made my day. I thanked him profusely before heading out the door.
That was the first time that I really understood the impact that a random act of kindness can have. I plan on paying it forward.
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