An Observation By Jan Chaffin
November 15, 2017
Yesterday I witnessed a miracle. There were no flashing lights or heavenly choirs, just everyday people doing everyday things, living their lives. Let me explain:
I was waiting at the pharmacy window for a Tetanus booster I didn’t want. I’d run down to the drug store, determined to at least get some exercise out of this intrusion. Luckily, I’d arrived just ahead of the lunchtime rush. People began lining up behind me as another register opened on my left.
No one was making me get the shot, but it was overdue and I needed it to continue volunteering. I didn’t want this toxin in my bloodstream for the next ten years. I was irked at having to pay over $50 and generally annoyed at the prospect of taking time from my day to buy a sore left arm.
The line was growing longer as the gentleman on my left lingered at the register. He was about my age or maybe younger, large yet huddled over as if bracing against some unseen elements. He appeared disheveled and confused. He said he barely remembered his name and was having difficulty coming up with correct change and had forgotten to buy milk. He asked the cashier if he could go get it and she told him there was a line; she couldn’t wait for him. He repeatedly mentioned he was very confused and sick.
I couldn’t help myself. I looked over and noticed he held a piece of notebook paper with cursive large letters listing items to purchase such as paper towels, trash bags… He didn’t have any of those items either. Should I run and get them for him? I quickly dismissed the thought.
Initially, the cashier seemed a bit impatient. The line of customers was bristling with the first hints of annoyance. Being a cashier, I felt more empathy for her than for the customers. She had a worn, resigned look. Her arm bore the tattooed name of someone in large letters, less a show of strength than an entreaty.
As the customer stood paralyzed by confusion, she began calmly suggesting ways for him to find some ID or credit card or payment for his medicine. Slowly he counted out his cash and he was 40 cents short. The cashier quickly rummaged through coin bowls and found 20 cents while the line of customers all watched without offering assistance. I had run downtown with only a credit card in my pocket. No cash, no change.
Then the cashier did something surprising. She told the customer to wait a minute and she left the Pharmacy, running down the hall. She returned shortly with a credit card. Wow, I thought, she’s going to put the difference on her own card. Instead, she rang up the entire amount and returned his money to him and explained he could use it for the items he still needed to purchase.
He trembled with relief and thanked her. “What is your name?” he asked. “Meagan”, she said. It was the name on her arm. “I am so grateful to you. You are a nice person. Meagan, I’ll never forget you.” His demeanor transformed; he stood taller and smiled. He remembered her name. “It’s what we do for each other”, she said with a shrug. She continued helping the next customer as I turned away, momentarily overcome.
* Hawaiian for extended family – no one left behind. Communitas.