Wednesday, October 27, 2010

The Lady at Casey's


Though the convenience store bustled with activity, the clerk behind the counter greeted us with a smile and cheerful hello. The only remarkable thing about her was the effort she gave to display a pleasant attitude in the midst of a chaotic afternoon.

"Hmm, nice lady," I thought.

We retrieved our items and waited in a long line. All the while the lady at Casey's waited on the customers with poise and cheer, not appearing rattled in the least. The mother in front of us clutched a baby in one arm and led two young girls to the counter.

Peering at the clerk, one of the little girls asked, "What's wrong with your teeth?"

Honestly I hadn't noticed the woman's teeth. Except for her calm demeanor during a busy time, she seemed perfectly normal to me.

Without hesitation the clerk said, "I used to do drugs and they made my teeth a mess."

The little girls stared at her with big eyes.

"I'm living proof that drugs are bad for you," the clerk continued, "I have to live with a jack-o-lantern smile for the rest of my life because I did drugs. Don't ever do drugs, okay?"

The little girls shook their heads slowly, their big eyes never leaving her face. Their mother smiled weakly and led them out the door.

I wanted to hug that clerk. I wanted to say, "Oh honey, your teeth don't look as bad as you make them sound." I wanted to tell her how much I admired her vulnerability to spare a stranger the pain she walked through. But there was a big line behind me and I didn't want to annoy anybody, making them wait longer as we talked (Basically I'm a chicken.).

But she made an impression on me. She taught me not to ignore my past mistakes, but be willing to talk about them to warn others. The road she's walked couldn't have been easy, but instead of complaining about it or making excuses about it or wallowing in self-pity over it, she uses it to benefit someone else. She showed me being transparent and open is another way to love. I pray God gives me that kind of courage. I pray He helps me recognize the moments when one comment could affect a life. I pray He makes me more like the lady at Casey's.

2 comments:

Thou Art Jules said...

Isn't it amazing how the "little" things can have such a huge impact on us! Maybe you can hug her next time :-)

Marsha Young said...

Tami,
From one "fellow chicken to another" - good for you for giving her respect through your post.
Marsha Y.