Henry needed non-sneaker shoes. I needed baby shower gifts. A trip to the store was necessitated.
As any of you out there with little people can understand, a trip to the store is no small feat. In order to even attempt it, everyone must be fed, dressed, freshly diapered/pottied, perfectly timed to fall inbetween naps, etc...not to mention making myself look a few notches better than homeless for the occasion. Showered being secondary to deoderized, if you catch my drift.
So, knowing the task ahead of me, I attacked early. I had breakfast ready when the kids woke up, their clothes laid out for immediate dressing after feeding, and we were en route to Marshall's about 45 minutes after wake-ups. That, dear readers, is what we here in the Chess house call a Booyah Moment.
The whole way to the store, I was thinking about what I wanted to buy for my baby-having friends. I was also thinking a lot about the likelihood of the shoe department having even one pair of boys' brown sandals to consider. Boys get the shaft at EVERY store, but it's particularly horrible at the bargain stores (read: pretty much the only places I shop without a gift card). Back to my point...wait, what was my point? Oh yeah, baby shower gifts. I knew I wanted to get my baby-girl-having bestie some really fun girly things. This child, by the very nature of who her mother is, needs rhinestones, okay. For the other baby-haver, I needed something smaller and more understated as her big present is a box o' diapers being that her shower is, in fact, a 'diaper shower.' And, as much as I hate to admit it (because I love for you all to believe I'm a multimillionairess with ties to royalty), I was thinking about how suitable gifts were certainly going to add up.
We're trying to be a little more budget-conscious around here these days, you see. So, I needed great gifts and new shoes inside of our budget without anyone shooting their eye out in the process of perusing ye olde Marshall's.
The shoe department was a bust. I mean, it was worse than a bust. I caught myself thinking curse words in the direction of the 46 pairs of precious little girl sandals as I dug through piles of cartoon-character or hoodrat sneakers for boys. Not one single pair of boys sandals...neon Nike flips do not count. I also caught myself saying to Henry loud enough for the store clerk to hear (because I'm so sure he has huge control over inventory), "Yeah, this store has a TERRIBLE shoe section Henry...it's just RIDICULOUSLY terrible! Nope, nothing for us here!!"
There was a man in the next row overhearing my silly commentary. I noticed him noticing us, and I gave him a 'hello' and I even waved James' arm at him to say 'hi'. He did not speak much English, We exchanged a smile over Henry's attempts to show me how great this or that shoe was because he could run weeewy fast in it. That man seemed nice.
After officially waving the white flag at the shoes, I attempted to parade our little party of three on over to the baby section. This means, however, that I have to walk past the housewares section, which, as you and I both know, means that housewares are getting a few minutes of my time. Decorating on the cheap is sort of my forte. Marshall's/TJ's/Ross...my meccas. So, we're all in the frame aisle. Henry is showing me cute babies in the pictures in the frames, and I am pleading with him not to pick anymore up because frames are made of glass and although mommy would love to buy one or two, she really would not love to buy one or two that are broken by oopsies in the frame aisle. He's getting it, but he's also testing boundaries...so he picks one or five more up for good measure. At one point, I kneeled down on the ground to pick up a few frames that he had stacked down there, and as I stood up, I locked eyes with that friendly stranger man from the shoe section again. Housewares apparently suck him in too. He smiled kindly at me and gestured knowingly towards Henry as he laughed to himself about me cleaning up the frames. I smiled back and thought he seemed like a grandpa. I wondered if he had grandkids around my kids' ages...that knowing glance spoke of experience. He walked on past, and I finished my browsing...nothing worth buying this time.
And, with that, I was off to babyland. Henry played with the toys at the end of the baby girl row offering hilarious and endearing commentary the entire time, and I tried desperately to shake my resentment towards store management for allowing such blatant gender discrimination in the children's clothing department. I mean, really...6 racks for girls...2 for boys. Yeah, that's fair. It's a good thing I was shopping for a girl on this day, I guess. As I was narrowing down the 16 or so to-die-for outfits I found, Henry came up to me and asked me to buy a choo-choo train that he had been playing with. Ordinarily, Jared and I allow Henry to pick one small toy (i.e. less than $2) at the store, but in this case, the train was about $10 AND he already had one just like it. So, I told him no. As I was explaining to him why we weren't going to buy it, Mr. Stranger from Shoes and Housewares is meandering on by. I'm sure he overheard Henry and I discussing it, but he went along to Menswear without stopping. Just that same smile and knowing glance. I gave him a wave this time, as it was getting pretty funny that we kept ending up by each other in the store. I finished up my outfit selection, Henry put the train back, and we started heading for checkout.
As we got to the front of the store, I was thinking a lot about budget stuff...a lot about saving money where we could...I put back one baby outfit that was a lot like one of the others I had picked...and I felt reasonably good about my gifts. As I turned back to the shopping cart after hanging up the put-back, there was my Hispanic grandfatherly friend again. This time, he was holding the train that Henry had asked for, and he was walking right up to me. Before I could get a word out, he asks me very politely while holding up the train to me, "Is it the money?" I told him no (while thinking 'maybe just a little) and that we just already had one so much like it. He says, "But the boy loves this...he should have this." I told him that he loves everything, and that he'd be happy with the one we have at home. He pulls a twenty dollar bill out of his blue jean pocket and says, "I insist. He should have this." My refusals to accept his gift were met with only kinder eyes and persistent insistence that he be allowed to purchase this train for Henry. I reluctantly took the money.
While we were in line, I waved to our sweet smiling stranger-friend as he made his way through the racks and out the front door. I felt a pang of guilt that I couldn't even give him his change. I told a few ladies next to me in line about what had happened, and they - as smart ladies are wont to do - became concerned that the guy was a creep waiting for us to exit so he could follow us home and commit whoknowswhat crime against us. While I never felt an ounce of creep factor, I agreed to let them escort us out to the car and make sure we drove out of the parking lot okay. And, as I suspected, we walked outside to find no sign of our blue-jeaned-white-shirt, Hispanic, grandfatherly friend anywhere.
As I loaded the kiddos up, my mind was full of thoughts about irony and generosity and how humbling it was to be on the receiving end of a completely unsolicited and unexpected gift. I was so touched by the kindness. I wondered what it was about my Henry that spoke to that man's heart...that motivated him to pull his undoubtedly hard-earned money out of his pocket and just give it over to the mom of the little blonde-haired boy at the store. I called Jared to tell him the story, and I told him it was just such a mind-blowing irony to me that I walked into the store feeling fretful about money...and then a random stranger just gives me twenty bucks.
But as I was telling him of irony and coincidence, a verse was laid on my heart that stopped me in my tracks. Hebrews 13:2 says, "Forget not to show love unto strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." This was no coincidence.
Y'all, that man was an angel. I'm sure of it. Right there in Marshall's in Humble, Texas, we smiled and waved at a man we didn't know...and he eased the trouble in my mind. He reminded me of the Good out there when I needed it the most. The $10 left of his $20 after the purchase of the train obviously didn't cover everything I had in my cart, but it affirmed my faith so beautifully that all things really are being worked together for Good. Even trips to discount stores.
That night, I was so excited to tell my mom about what had happened. She and I differ in our beliefs in many ways, but I knew she would see the 'magic' in this story. So, I tell her all about it and even about the bible verse, and she was in disbelief...one, because it was such a cool story, but two, because she had been helped out by a stranger earlier that afternoon as well. As she was leaving a doctor's office with my grandmother, a man came out of nowhere and helped my grandmother out of her wheelchair and into the car. Her words were that 'he acted as if he was their companion - doing the things that any man would do if he were accompanying a lady to the car.' He made sure they were comfortably in, and then he told them both to have a great day waving as they drove off. Would it surprise you at all to hear that their kind helper was Hispanic, grandfatherly, and wearing a white shirt and blue jeans as well?
Yeah, me neither.
