I'm like any person you know. I think I'm really busy. And I am. I work, I run, I cook, I play. But I learned something about myself and my busy-ness on a trip to the grocery store yesterday.
I had worked at the office until almost 5. I needed to stop and buy some ingredients for pizza and a peach pie but was also in a hurry to get home for my long run. I had skipped a run earlier in the week and was feeling particularly committed to get my 7 miles in. I grabbed the ingredients I needed, some pepperoni and salami, some peaches and some pudding. I decided at the last minute to grab some Gatorade and as I made my selection a very sweet and worried looking older woman came around the corner. She looked so troubled that I asked if I could help her with something. She was looking for canned pumpkin. She'd been all over the store and was afraid her bad knee was going to give out. I abandoned my cart, ran up and down the aisle and, luckily, found the pumpkin. She was so grateful it just about broke my heart.
I was on my to the checkout counter and something inside told me to go back and make sure this sweet old gal had gotten everything she needed. She was still standing in front of the pumpkin, reading a recipe on the back of one of the cans. When I approached to ask if she needed help with anything else before I left she took my hand to thank me for looking after her. And she held my hand for the fifteen or so minutes that we stood and talked about pumpkin cookies and cream cheese frosting and the pumpkin roll-up recipe on the can. Her granddaughter loves pumpkin cookies so she was going to make some...just plain, no pineapple or raisins or anything...to surprise her.
Turns out I'm never too busy to help a sweet old lady.
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