Revelations can come in the most surprising circumstances, like the eye-opening experience I recently had at the dollar store.
In an aisle stocked with hearts, cupids, a vast array of Easter bunnies, and pastel-coloured eggs, a cheery voice greeted me: “I just can’t believe that it’s almost Valentine’s Day … and Easter!”
I turned to see a young woman, pushing a shopping cart and gesturing her head toward the Easter display behind her. Her smile was contagious, and her eyes lit up when I responded with a comment about the passage of time.
A few minutes later, the same woman approached me again. Apologizing unnecessarily for the width of her shopping cart, she smiled and passed me. I greeted her, assuring her that her cart posed no problem.
Again, as I was browsing in another aisle, my new “friend” came toward me. She apologized once more for her cart and then exclaimed delightedly, “We keep bumping into each other.” As I finished my errands, I continued to hear her voice. She warmed my heart and made me smile.
Having worked with children with special needs, I recognized her as an example of a “success story.” She appeared to have some developmental differences, but was functioning independently, shopping on her own, and acknowledging the personal space of others.
In the checkout line, I was two customers behind my friend. I watched her interactions with people in the lineup and became increasingly disheartened by what I witnessed. Every time she would try to engage in friendly conversation, the people next to her looked the other way, uncomfortably attempting to ignore her.
In the awkward silence of unreciprocated comments, my friend spoke directly to the woman in front of her. “I really like your sweater,” she stated.
The woman – about 30 years old and stylishly dressed – looked down from her high heels at this kind person and muttered “Thank you” through pursed lips.
Not oblivious to the woman’s dismissive reaction and still trying to redeem the conversation, my friend asked, “Where did you get it?”
Barely making eye contact and without as much as a smile, the woman said, “It was a gift.” The poor soul quickly apologized yet again, “I’m sorry to bother you.”
My heart sank. This woman who, with her cheery nature and awareness of others, had brightened my experience in a boring dollar store did not deserve to be treated like a second-class citizen for simply personifying human kindness.
With unbridled enthusiasm for life and a friendly and positive outlook, she had ventured into the dollar store, sharing the love in her big heart as quickly as she filled her large shopping cart. She had obviously been taught to consider personal space, as shown by her almost reflexive apologies.
What transpired in the lineup, however, reminded me that everyone needs an education in what Michelle Garcia Winner refers to as “Social Thinking,” such as making eye contact, responding politely when spoken to, and accepting compliments with gratitude and grace.
In working with children with special needs – writing their behavioural and academic plans, consulting with specialists such as behaviour analysts, speech and occupational therapists – we, parents and educators, aim to teach them independence, common courtesies, and an awareness of people outside of themselves.
In effect, we focus on helping these beautiful and unique individuals fit into our world, while – as the lady with the nice sweater reminded me – perhaps we should spend an equal amount of time focusing on fitting ourselves into theirs.
Christ came to this world to become one with us and to prepare us for his kingdom by meeting us at our level. He went out of his way to speak to the lonely, the sinners, and the sick. I saw Christ in the woman I met at the dollar store.
Even as I attempt to fill in the blanks, I realize that I know basically nothing about the two women in the dollar store that day. One thing I do know, however, is that while one of them appeared to have a disability, the real handicap existed in the one who – even if she was having a bad day – had seemingly lost the basic ability to return a smile.
