The Imaginary Sign

I put my cartload of groceries on the belt as they moved forward.
I heard the scanner as each item was ready to be bagged.
Paper or plastic? The cashier asked me.
Both please; I will help you bag as soon as I get this cart unloaded, I told her.

As if on cue, she approached me.
I see her each week.
She has a perpetual smile on her face.
She has perfect porcelain skin.

She does the menial tasks that are often overlooked but matter to the appearance of the store.
She usually has a long-handled dustpan and broom in her hand as she cleans up visible trash.
She is never idle and always has a kind, hello, to anyone who passes her by.
She moves a bit slower than most; her actual age probably much older than her behavior.

She is childlike in her attitude; innocent and trusting.
She is quite talkative if you ask her about her cats.
She is pleasant and does the job required of her.
I never knew anything about her until I did my food shopping this week.

She came up to the line I was in, would you like some help with your groceries?
Oh, yes, please, I said quite appreciative of her help.
She worked slowly and carefully.
I bagged alongside her which gave us an opportunity to talk.

She was looking at all of my groceries.
I want to learn how to cook, she said as more of an announcement.
That’s a fine thing to learn, I answered.
Cooking is just following the directions in a cookbook, I said simplifying it way too much.

By this time, the cashier joined in our conversation.
Just learn how to make a big pot of chili or soup and you have meals for a few days, she said.
I want to learn how to cook for my dad, so he can come home and smell all the good things.
That’s a great reason to learn how to cook, I said.

I was getting glimpses into her life as she unveiled a bit more with each remark.
She looked right into my eyes and said with certainty, My mama is in heaven.
I looked at her face; the same perpetual smile was there just like always.
I’m sorry about that; I know how hard it is lose your mother, I said and meant it.

Yes, she went to heaven in October, she said as she bagged my produce.
It is so hard to lose someone you love so close to Christmas.
Was she sick? I asked.
Yes, she had cancer for a long time, she said remembering.

That’s why I want to learn to cook for my dad, she said sweetly.
We’ve been having TV dinners every night, she said obviously missing her mom.
I wanted to stop right then and there and teach her how to cook a few things.
I remember how hard it is to be responsible for meals when your mother dies.

My mama is in heaven, she said again.
I didn’t doubt it.
She may move a bit slower than most but her heart knows what many others do not know.
Her mother is with the Lord in her heavenly home.

I saw tiny wisps of gray along the hairline of this woman.
She was probably much older than her actions led me to believe.
She was quite mature in her faith.
She was leagues beyond many others who do not have that assurance.

I really need to learn how to cook, she said again to no one in particular.
I put my hand on her shoulder.
I am sorry you lost your mother, especially this time of year.
I do care, I said and meant it, as she looked up at me and smiled.

When I shopped with my young children, we inevitably saw people we knew.
Sometimes, the conversations would be a bit longer than, hello, how are you.
Sometimes people would share their hearts.
I remember a comment that one of my children made one day.

Mom, it’s like you have a sign on you that says talk to me.
I laughed at the time but I never forgot that remark.
I thought about that comment today as I walked away from this woman.
It’s like you have a sign on you that says talk to me.

I’m glad I have that imaginary sign.
I’m glad that I am approachable.
However, I cannot take credit for that.
I serve the Lord Jesus; if He cares about people then I must care as well.

I can imagine what my sign would read.
You matter to Him and you matter to me.
He cares about you, and I care about you, too.
You’re important to Him and you’re important to me.

Carry each others burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. (Galatians 6:2)

Can you imagine if we all walked around with one of those signs in front of us?
Can you imagine the difference in our world if we all took the time to care?
Can you fathom what a hand on the shoulder might mean to someone?
Can you understand what a few minutes of your time means to someone who is lonely?

I did not plan the encounter with the woman as we bagged my groceries.
I did not listen to her as a way to make points with God.
God the Father sent His Son to be born like one of us so that we can be like Him.
When we love the Lord with all of our hearts, we can’t help but make Him known.

I know there will be more opportunities to talk to this woman.
Now I know more things to ask her about than just her cats.
God allowed me to glimpse into a window of her life.
So what if there is a sign on the front of me?

I hope there is.
In small ways, He makes Himself known.
However those seemingly small things are really big things to someone else.
God wanted it to be like that.

It’s like you have a sign on you that says talk to me.
Good, I hope so!
It will give me an opportunity to make the Lord Jesus known.
What a privilege.

 

2 responses to “The Imaginary Sign”

1. I find that as I get older I’m more ready to share my faith with others and I thank God for that. You are a prime example of someone who shares her faith with everyone around her. God bless you always!

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   • Thank you for your kind words, Sue!
     It is important to tell about the Lord Jesus but we must tell about Him with JOY! What a precious Gift we have been given!
     Gina

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