The Saturday Journal: Sometimes, it's just nice...

The clouds are puffed--layered--like suds waiting for dirty dishes to drop. Lord, I pray, please send rain. We are in need.

It's Tuesday--nine days 'til Thanksgiving--thirty-four days 'til Christmas.

This wasn't in my plans today--but I'm in need of light bulbs--why is it they all go out at the same time. I need the long kind--for the basement. A few days ago, I bought the ones that read--"basement and workshop" on the label. But nope, not for my basement.

It's still early morning and the local family hardware store close to my home--they open early. So I go and walk in--the owner calls me by name--ask me what I'm up to on this day. We talk like family--because that's the way it is--the way it feels. I've known his family for a lifetime--he knows mine. He sits behind the counter and I asked how his wife is doing and he tells me. And in walks his oldest son--he smiles--asks me how's my grapevines are doing. And we talk all things vines and grapes for a little while--how he's grafting and caring for his young vines over the winter.

I buy a Master Lock--another story for another time, and picture hangers too. And the light bulbs for my basement--they were out of the size I needed. So I headed to the other hardware store--the "larger" one in town.

I see an old friend there, I haven't seen in years and we catch up on family, work--his wife and daughter--right there in the "lightbulb" aisle. I wished him and his family a Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas.

I continue examining the box labels--searching for the size and length I need and this older gentleman, he turns to me and says, 'Do you know anything about these lightbulbs? I left home and forgot to measure the ones I have.'

I laughed a little, 'Evidentially not, this is my second trip here--I bought the wrong size--last time.'

We talked more about the sizes and LED and other "light bulb" technology--pretty certain the extent--both he and I--our level of lightbulb knowledge is very limited. If the light doesn't come on when we flip the switch--then it doesn't work. Some bulbs are long and narrow and some are good-ole round lightbulbs. Period.

He said, 'Thank you. I think I'll go home and measure what I need and come back.'

Smart man.

I found the bulbs I needed--the right ones and made my way to the self-checkout. Now, I know there's a lot of controversy and complaints about self-checkouts at retail stores, however at this particular store--there is always a courteous employee to help. At least that has been my experience. But mostly, I do try to go through check-outs with "live" people.

So while I'm checking out--the "self-checkout" employee came up to me and asked, "Where's Josh's Farmer's Market located at now?" You see I had on my favorite Josh's Farmer's Market hoodie on this day. I smiled--you know about Josh's? We talked for a minute more and I explained the market had finally found a permanent home in the Mooresville area after having to move more times than I'm sure they would like to remember.

I pushed my buggy--the one holding my light bulbs and a few other items--out the sliding doors and thought to myself, 'Everybody's in a talking mood today.'

Her eyes were tired--already weary it seemed, and it's still days for the horn to sound "official" shopping season. I stand in front of the register at the store many often shop--my last stop for the day. She doesn't acknowledge me--not yet, anyway. Her head is turned toward the exit door--watching as he walks out and then she turns to me--she sees me. I see her distraught--even more.

"I was just trying to help him and he was so rude. I'm pretty sure he's getting scammed and he wouldn't listen to me,' and she shakes her head, looking down as she slides my Little Debbie Christmas Cakes across the scanner.

Her eyes meet mine--this time--longer. 'He's buying these cards for video games and he doesn't play them. I believe there are companies targeting people--talking them into buying something they know nothing about. They call "older" people--and she looks down, and again at me--I'm sorry I didn't mean that disrespectful.'

'I know you don't.'

She finishes bagging my items. Your total is, $28.47.

Yeah, that's more than I was planning--dang, those Little Debbie Christmas Cakes!

And it's still me and her--no one else in the store and she thanks me--after I pay.

I say the same and add, I hope your day gets better.

And what she said next--my breath nearly left me--like a punch in the gut--a hard punch.

'I try. I really do, but they get mad at me. I've even told them, just don't answer the phone when these companies call.' And then she said, 'I've had more than one person tell me--sometimes it's just nice to have someone to talk to.'

And I am, undone.

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I pray you and your family have a Blessed and Happy Thanksgiving.

I appreciate each of you more than you will ever know and I pray, the stories shared in this

space will encourage and bless you in some small way.

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All photos @copyright Tathel Miller, unless otherwise credited to another photographer.

Soli Deo Gloria

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