How an Empty Fridge can lead to a Full Heart
Posted: Wednesday, April 07, 2010
by Jennifer Stewart
Stepping out of History
My fridge or the contents thereof frequently resembles that of Stephanie Plum, author Janet Ivanovich's bounty hunter heroine. Old moldy cheese (actually, I usually eat the cheese before it goes moldy), a few wilted lettuce leaves and miscellaneous plates with leftover brown rice. I haven't gone shopping for quite a few days because walking there is okay (downhill) but coming back laden with shopping is a drag, especially when the wind is gale force.
Oh. Drat. No coffee. No bread. No marmalade. Old brown rice I will not eat for breakfast. So rather hungrily I set out for the shop, via the beach. There was no wind, the world was quiet, the sky overcast, the ocean dull grey metal. A single white sailing boat crossed the bay.
I passed a man probably in his late 60's, looking a bit distressed. I saw him hesitate a moment, then he asked if I had by chance seen his car keys. He'd dropped them in the sand somewhere.
He had no hands, only mechanized claws. I said I hadn't seen the keys, but that I would look, and slowed down to walk with him, although my instinctive reaction was fear. He could have been a serial killer for all I knew. He hesitated, and stopped. I walked on a ways then thought perhaps he believes I don't want to walk with him because of his hands.
I wondered what that was like, going through a huge trauma (of losing both hands in the first place), then having the added trauma of people being afraid of you, wanting to avoid you. I know the basic principle of it pretty well, actually, though I haven't lost any body parts and I think his challenge is far harder than mine.
He wasn't in any way a victim, he was self-contained, but my heart went out to him, and I thought, I can respect his dignity, deal with my fear. So I stopped, and waited for him. Chatted normally. He was in charge of his life, I could see that, but he was very fragile inside, vulnerable like a small bird.
I said I was coming back the same way after shopping; that I'd look again for his keys, and asked how I could get hold of him if I found them. He said he lived in a retirement home and didn't know the number, but if I found the keys I could leave them at the beach restaurant.
He was grateful in a simple uncomplicated way. Seemed quietly surprised that I would go to any trouble for him. I was moved, and glad I'd opened up my heart.
We parted company and I went shopping, wondering how he lost his hands, and if it would have been okay for me to ask. Wondering if it would have been a positive experience for him to tell me. I wanted to find his keys for him. Felt like a kid about it. I wished I'd invited him to have coffee with me or something so I could hear his story.
I went on to do my shopping. In the shop the vegetable section didn't look a whole lot better than my fridge! A tall, smiling beautiful woman working there said the delivery truck had just come in, but hadn't been offloaded yet. She said if I wait for about 5 minutes I could have my celery.
Now usually when somebody says it'll be 5 minutes it means anything up to an hour. So I asked her. She laughed in a semi self-deprecating "the world is hopeless today!" kind of way and told me to wait. 5 minutes, she said, not an hour! Laughing. Not at me, with me. I gathered that I wasn't the first to ask her the same question. She had an amazing nature, beautiful to see, wonderful to be around.
I watched another woman pounced on her angrily. She got the same kind, half-amusedly frustrated "please try to be patient" response that was somehow incredibly empathetic. The woman just couldn't let it in. I watched her behave in ways that I often do myself angry, blaming; impatient.
I thought, there we were; two sides of the same coin in a way. I could see how opening my heart to the tall beautiful smiling woman allowed the waiting experience to be a good one. And how closing her heart made the angry woman's experience a lousy one. Funny thing is, I got my celery, and she didn't get what she'd been waiting for! Poor thing. So the whole scenario had been horrid for her. Yet for me if even if I hadn't got my celery, I'd have come away feeling happy. Because of the tall beautiful woman and her inner laughter.
On my way back, some council workers were cleaning up the beach. I was busy asking one of them if she'd seen the man's keys when another woman approached, dangling them!! I was quite inexplicably thrilled and walked with her to the beach restaurant. The man had already left, but I'm pretty sure he'll call back. I hope he does. I want him to have his keys. I want him to know he was important enough for people to take the trouble.
I walked back home shopping be-laden, thinking what a remarkably rewarding experience it is to be part of somebody else's solution, and for somebody else to be part of mine, even in small ways. And being overawed at how life draws people together so that they can have these experiences.
Most of all, how they can fill your heart.
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More commentsHi Jennifer.I love Stephanie Plum. I aspire to be her ... well maybe a combo of her and Temperance Brennan, anyway. Oooh! What does that say about me?Leftover brown rice can actually be good for breakfast if you add water, maple syrup and cinnamon to it then microwave it until it gets a bit creamy. But it's good that you went out for your groceries or we wouldn't have had the pleasure of your wonderful story.Hugs,DianneI left a comment and don't know what happened to it - maybe it went shopping. I aspire to Stephanie's Joseph! But Temperance Brennan is my absolute favourite of them all!As for the maple syrup and cinnamon, it sounds divine. I haven't had the former since I was in the US, and don't even know it's sold here. Calls for another trip to the shop. Got shopping on the brain now...xxxJ
Beautifully written Jennifer and what a great reminder in life to just take a few seconds to see through the outward and into the inwards of people! Thanks for sharing!It was a pleasure, Laura, and thanks for reading and rating it so well!
Jennifer, Very Interesting Article!Thanks for reading and responding, Mark! And for the rating...
jennifer,very nice.bingAnd this is a very nice comment to receive from you, Bing. Thanks.Jennifer
wow, from the kitchen to the grocery store to the beach front. lots of scenery to digest (pun intended)And a good pun it is! Thanks for reading and rating, Walter.
Thank you for this beautiful article. It brought a tear to my eye - made me think that we don't stop enough for each other, we don't help each other enough. This is a nice reminder.It was a pleasure, Cindy. I don't think we've met before - hi!
Nice article...amazing how our approach going into a situtation vis a vis opening up your heart (or not!) determines the outcome. ThanksIt is amazing, isn't it? Can't always do it, but when I can I remember why I want to do it more. And it was a pleasure.
You have made a great story out of just a shopping trip.Thanks, that's such a nice compliment!
Thank you so much for giving some time with someone who needs a company for a while. God bless. :)It was a pleasure, Maureen.
Life is really good. How experiences turn into Lessons is awesome to think and analyse. Only then can you draw your future goals.Thanks for commenting, Shabbir.
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