Be a decent person

"How can I expect the world to be full of decent people if I'm not one myself?"

This is what I came away with after today.

I didn't want to go to the grocery store. It was 5:15, which meant it'd be dark by the time we got to the store, and it was already down to 19 degrees, and Savannah had not napped so I knew she'd fall asleep in the car. I knew it'd be a hassle, and I dreaded it. But there were several items that we needed, so I bundled us up, loaded us up, and headed out.

And it was everything I hadn't expected. We sang along to the radio as if it was a sunny, rested day and not a cranky, sleepy, dinner-hour time. Savannah did fall asleep, but when I lifted her out of her seat she opened her eyes, looked around, and smiled at me.

We walked through the aisles, and I smiled at everyone we passed. Moved the giant car shopping cart out of the way of other shoppers and said "No problem" when they thanked me. Made parent jokes with other parents braving the cold Ohio night to fill their cupboards. I had already planned to get a few BOGO items and put the extra items in the food donation box they set out for the holidays.

We got to the register and as I set the first item down, the cashier set out the "register closed" sign. Instead of making me move, as he easily could have, he said he'd ring me up. He had a friendly smile and didn't mind that Savannah pushed the buttons on the key pad. He told Nevaeh the Ariel doll on top of his register wasn't for sale, but she should put it on her list for Santa (with a wink my way). He thanked me when I said I wanted some items set aside so I could put them in the donation box.

I couldn't find the donation box, though. The security guard didn't know where it had been moved, nor did anyone he asked. So I handed all the items except the pumpkin pie to an employee who would put it all with the "damaged" goods that they routinely donate to shelters.

In the parking lot, I approached a woman shutting her trunk and asked if she liked pumpkin pie. "No, I'm sorry, I don't." She replied. "That's ok, I just have this extra one and don't need it." I answered. Her face lit up and she told me how sweet I was to think of others. My heart grew.

The girls "steered" the car cart to the Mom Hot Rod (Ahem, mini man) and I started the car and strapped them in. Unloaded the groceries and offered the pie to a passerby who also politely declined. Apparently we were going home with two pumpkin pies. I went to put the cart in the return and saw it was a jumbled mess, so I zipped my coat up to my throat and started organizing them.

A man called out, "I see you being conscientious. I notice your kindness!" I looked up and smiled. "How can I expect the world to be full of decent people if I'm not one myself?" He agreed heartily and said my girls were precious.

My heart swelled.

This was a simple night. On a day already good I might not have noticed how great it was. But it was a night I expected to be a pain, and turned out not to be. And it made me more grateful. More willing to smile at others, even if it wasn't returned. More conscientious of jumbled carts that an employee would have to untangle in the freezing temperatures. The Holidays especially make me more aware that a lot of people can't just go to the store, no matter how inconvenient, to buy groceries that they don't need but could really use. To buy extra things to give away.

The world is full of good, kind, decent people. But in order to see them, to experience their kindness, I have to also express goodness, kindness, and decency. Give love; receive love. And even if love is not returned, my heart can still swell knowing I'm adding to the goodness, not giving in to what could have been a miserable night.