Just Write {167}

December 23, 2014

I walk the aisles of thrift stores, and I search for treasures. The book aisles are off limits for right now, because I should really read all the un-read ones already at home, tucked in rows on shelves all over the living room. Wouldn’t it be something if we could sit and read for days and days? Would it ever grow old?

For those of us that love books in a mad passionate way, I doubt we’d get sick of it. Especially if we could sit on a porch or a beach or maybe even just our favorite spot on the couch.

I was thrifting for Christmas presensts. (Shhhh, don’t tell my family members that their gifts are used, they will never know.)

I’m a regular thrifter, I’m pretty sure I’ve made that clear here. But I guess I just figure that if I need to buy something, and I can find it at Goodwill and the like? I’m gonna find it.

On this particular avoiding-the-book-section outing, it was hard to get around and through. It was so busy, people clamoring for their last-minute gifts, or just searching for treasures, as we thrifters do. I had to take deep breaths a couple of times, to avoid getting frustrated and then overly mad at the way people think only of themselves, cut you off, scowl, and nearly run others over with carts.

You can look for that kind of behavior all over the place this time of year and always, and you will certainly find it. And you can focus on it and get angry and roll your eyes at the state of humanity. But then guess what we miss, if we do that?

He was walking along with his love on his arm, as I came around the corner. And I stopped short, to wait my turn (such a grown-up). He tried to stop to let me go, but she didn’t. He turned and looked me in the eyes and said, Excuse us.

No, no problem, go ahead. (I try.)

Then I saw her cane, and her blindness. I realized she had no idea when to stop or go, except for with his touch, his guiding words. And she was asking about a particular item and he was navigating, carefully guiding just a little this way and that, listening, responding, No…no, I don’t think it’s there anymore. She said, Oh really? with such a disappointment in her voice. So he started reassuring her, not missing a beat. He turned her around, so slowly in the small space between racks of things. From the far back of the store, he started her toward the door. His face was open and smiling, like not a second was wasted.

I’m pretty sure it was Mr. Rogers who said to look for the helpers. The world is full of them. Even Goodwill is full of them.

Let’s look at them, and be like them.

Happy Holidays, friends. I’m so grateful for you. Peace.


This is the 167th installment of Just Write, an exercise in free writing your ordinary and extraordinary moments. {New here? Please see the details.} I would love to read your freely written words so join me and link up below. You can add the url of your post at any time. Just be sure it’s a link to your Just Write post, not to your main page. (Then link back to this post in your Just Write post so people know where to go if they’d like to join in.) (Any links not following those two guidelines will be deleted.)

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{ 1 comment }

anna whiston-donaldson December 23, 2014 at 1:42 pm

And I sure consider you one of the helpers. LOVE and HUGS.

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