Many a sad life story is to be heard among the customers at the Little Shop of Harmony. Many a sigh have I sent up to God as I see refugees struggling to make a life for themselves, alcoholics struggling to find something to live for. And above all, as I see the aching loneliness of those not loved by anyone.
And then I go back to my own life and whine over the lack of a decent cup of coffee and the cost of hair dye.
Today, an old man wandered in to buy a present to bring to some celebration he obviously had been invited to. He asked for directions to the gift book shelf but politely declined offers of help to choose, as if not wanting to trouble anyone. After looking around a bit at random, he chose the first suitable and not too expensive book he found. I took his money and idly reflected over the fact that such an independent man still could seem so lost in the world. But after all, lone male shoppers tend to seem out of place in our small shop - it's usually the women who buy gifts.
As if in explanation, he suddenly remarked as I handed him his change: "My wife, Annie, she used to buy the presents. But she is gone now."
I mumbled something inane and then he left. But despite all the sad stories I have heard, this one gave me a sharp stab of pain on the inside. In fact, I cried. Over the loneliness, the helpless despair, and the incredible courage of people who make their lives go on even though the bottom of their world has fallen out.
I hope Annie in her heaven is smiling down at him through tears of pride and love.
1 comment:
This is a sad story indeed, one among many that you hear everyday, but among the few that you remember for its heartfelt poignancy.
Death leads to heartbreak in more ways than we can imagine, eh?
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