Many years ago when I was a young
mother, I went to the grocery store with my daughter and waited behind a poor
old gentleman who was unable to pay his bill. I desperately wanted to help him,
but I was afraid and kept silent. The episode bothered me so much that I went home and wrote
this fictional Christmas story. I wish I had been the woman in my story.
Dan held the
mug of coffee tightly in both hands and felt the steam rising to his face. He
lifted the cup to his lips and let the bitter amber liquid trickle slowly down
his throat.
Even though
he knew that the apartment was well-heated and comfortable, he was cold. He felt
that he would never be warm again.
Dan was
always cold and lonely. He missed Abigail and the children – but Abby was gone
now, and the kids had their own lives to lead, their own problems to solve.
The future
looked bleak. His days were filled with routine. He was thankful for his
independence and reasonably good health, but he longed for something more.
“An old man’s
foolish dreams,” he thought to himself.
Dan placed the
empty cup on the table and reached into a pocket for his wallet. He opened the
worn black billfold and checked its contents. There wasn’t much money left, but
he would make do. He always had.
Walking
gingerly to the closet, he took out his winter jacket, a flannel-lined wool
coat. Briefly, his eyes scanned the kitchen shelves. He made a mental note of a
few items, slid into his coat sleeves, and placed his keys in the ample pocket.
Making sure
that the door was locked securely behind him, Dan slowly descended the winding
staircase.
It was an
overcast and blustery December day. He shivered and pulled his collar up around
his neck as he sauntered down the street toward the supermarket.
There was a
time when he had enjoyed grocery shopping. He had loved to watch Abby shop.
Even though their Social Security checks barely covered the necessities, she
always had enough for the bill and managed to save a little bit extra.
He smiled
when he remembered how she used to sneak a little something into the basket for
the kids. He would always pretend not to notice.
Dan knew how
much it had pleased her to feel that she had made the burden a little lighter
for him – and she had. Being with Abby had made everything easier.
He entered
the market, chose a cart, and started the trek through the numerous
well-stocked aisles. Sterile-sounding Christmas carols played over the
intercom.
He was tired
as he finally made his way to the express checkout lane. In the corner of the
oversized shopping cart were cans of soup, cereal, orange juice, bread, and coffee.
He took his
place at the end of the line, which wound its way down the immense corridor.
Impatient shoppers paced nervously while they inched forward. Dan waited.
No one
spoke. His mind wandered. He remembered the market he had shopped at when he
and Abby were newlyweds. The proprietor had been a friendly man who had
appreciated each of his customers. The cashiers had called Dan by name.
It was
different now – so impersonal. Everyone just stared straight ahead while the
electronic scanners did the talking.
It was his
turn now. With disbelief he saw the final total on the register. He would have
to put something back.
Dan felt
ashamed. He had never had much money, but he had always had his pride. Now he
felt that even that had been taken from him.
Dan cleared
his throat and in a whisper told the clerk that he had changed his mind about
the coffee.
The lady
behind him bent down, picked something up, and tugged at Dan’s sleeve.
“I think you
dropped this, sir,” the woman said, handing him a small slip of paper.
Confused, he
glanced at the free coffee coupon and without thinking passed it on to the
clerk.
The old man
looked up in surprise when the total came within his means. He paid the bill,
accepted his change, picked up the bag and walked out of the store.
Dan smiled
at the woman as she came through the exit doors into the cool, bright sunshine.
“Why did you
do that for me?” Dan asked as he patted the head of the squirming toddler
strapped securely in the front of her shopping cart. “You could have used that
coupon for your own family.”
“God has
always given us enough and a little bit extra,” she replied. “I like to share
the extra.”
With eyes brimming
with tears, Dan reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly.
“God bless
you,” he said. “Have a very merry Christmas.”
As Dan
walked back to his apartment, he didn’t feel quite as cold as before. He felt
the warm sunshine on his back and a warmth radiate from within.
Impulsively,
he stopped at the first-floor apartment and knocked on his neighbor’s door. He
waited patiently while Harry opened the multiple latches.
Smiling into
Harry’s puzzled face, Dan said, “Why don’t you come up for a cup of coffee?”
