What One Learns at Stuff*Mart

I was in line at my local Stuff*Mart when a woman in front of me yanked an opened food container from her cart and shoved it into the cashier's hands.

"I couldn't help it. I was really hungry," she said. And then she added sheepishly in a tone of mock apology, "You can see I tore right through the bar code."

And indeed she had.

The cashier looked at her incredulously and then attempted to scan the empty package. No dice. She tried again. At this point, I'm assuming she gave a look or an exasperated sigh, though I did't hear it, because the customer, a slightly plump woman dressed in a hot pink getup, complete with hot pink sneakers, groaned, "Look, I was hungry, okay? I was about to fall over. I'm sorry." Her attitude was longer than the growing line behind her. "I'll go back and get another one for you to scan, if that will make you feel better." The cashier sighed again, declined the offer and hand-entered the numbers beneath the bar code. Success.

The transaction continued fairly normally from that point, though I just kept thinking of how rude this customer had been--rude like I can't even describe in words because it was just oozing out of her pores. The way she stood. The way she looked. The way she spoke. Complete and total arrogance. It disgusted me. I hope I NEVER act like that, I thought. It didn't help that her purse bore my first initial. It made me wonder how many times I've stepped close to the edge.

When her purchase was complete, the woman took her receipt and said, "Have a nice day. And I'm sorry I ruined your life by eating my sandwich."

Here's me being floored.

So, as I was placing my items on the conveyor, here comes this man with two items in his hands. Two items. And I hear him tell my cashier that he was just waiting until "this nice lady" was done with her cart so he could use it. And I see him approaching me. By this time, I had almost, but not entirely, finished emptying my cart. I still had several items in the basket as well as on the bottom. The man walked over to my cart, asked me if I minded, and then started putting his things in my cart while I was still unloading it! "You don't mind, do you? I'll even help you unload it." Well, I was a bit taken aback, but I figured I was finished with the cart, so what the heck?

Until the cashier called out, "You can't take her cart! She needs it! What is she going to do with her bags of groceries?"

She had a very good point that I'd not thought of. In my haste to get rid of the guy and avoid more uncomfortable conversation, I just told him to take it, that I'd get another, but could I retrieve my gallons of water from the bottom first?

I did. And he took my cart and moved on. And I walked out to the lobby area while my groceries were being bagged and got another cart, fifteen feet away from where this man had just walked.

Stunning, isn't it?

I had to think long and hard about all of this. What does it mean, I wondered as the cashier confided in me about her loss of faith in the human race.

"It only takes one day of working here before you just don't like people anymore," she said. I could see what she meant.

And it made me wonder. How much are we to give? When do we say, "No. I'm sorry. I need this for myself," or "My apologies, but I can't do that for you." When, as Christians, is enough enough? Is it ever? When a man asks for our cart, do we give him our water, too? Do we give him a cup of cold Vault in Jesus' name? Where does it end? Will it end? And how do we determine who is worthy of these graces?

I know I've been pardoned many times. I am fairly certain that I have been extended my share of grace, that there have been times that I have stuck my foot in my mouth, or asked for more than I should have, or taken what wasn't rightfully mine. What would I have had my offendee do for or to me? What would have been productive? What *is* productive in my life now?

For me, for now, it's grace and mercy. It's what's holding me together, keeping my feet moving, keeping my mind working and my blood pumping, keeping my sanity. it's those who extend grace who are helping me survive, with their hugs and offers of help and gifts of books and apple butter and music and school supplies and cash.

And love.

The Greatest of these.

That's a pretty heavy lesson to learn while standing in the Stuff*Mart checkout line. But I suppose I had to learn it somewhere.