I slammed the door to my Red Rustang and sashayed into Family Fare. Luckily, I didn’t have my annoying little sister in tow to hinder my image. Swinging my keys, I strutted to the dairy aisle and retrieved four gallons of milk. I was waiting in line with all of them in my hands and they were quite heavy. Perhaps having Leah with me as a pack mule could have helped.
Before I knew it, a single gallon slipped from my grasp and exploded all over the floor; the cracked container spewed milk in all directions. I was dumbfounded. The milk spread pretty quickly with no one stopping it. I stood there gawking until an employee propped up a big yellow sign and mumbled, “The janitor’ll come.” That glaring yellow sign warning all to stay clear only added to my embarrassment.
An incredibly old man in front of me just could not stop laughing or contain his comment, “Maybe four is a little too many without a cart!” I just smiled and laughed along. He was just hilarious. Everyone who walked by gazed at the ground to the growing puddle of milk up to me. It seemed everyone knew I had done it. Hunched over in line, I inched as far away from the spill as possible.
Why isn’t anyone helping me? Are they blind? Everyone needs a little help once in a while, it seems this would be apparent to these oblivious bystanders.
I was just about to leave empty handed when a middle-aged man came up to me and offered his help. Insisting that this kind of thing happened to him all the time, he relieved me of one of the milks and started toward the door. Departing from the store with a tad more humbleness, I graciously followed this man. He accompanied me out to my car and opened the trunk. Transferring the gallons of milk and a smile, he let out a cheerful, “Have a nice day!” to which I squeaked out a thank you, and headed home.
I believe everyone needs kindness. But more so, I believe the individuals who need kindness the most deserve it the least.
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