The sky hangs low this morning and if you could squint close enough I’m quite sure you would see the word WINTER etched across it in wispy, weathered handlettering. As it is, I read my thermometer instead and it says seventeen degrees. I give a shiver and I pull out my long, navy coat and snap it tight as I head out my door to brave the cold. I sip coffee with friends and wrap my hands tight around the warmth of my cup. I drive to our local grocery store and lean into the wind as I walk inside. I maneuver my cart past bananas and strawberries and grab a gallon of milk and five pounds of butter since butter is on sale, “Saturday Only!” for a very good price.
I stop by the alcove where Dillons tucks deals and markdowns. I leave my cart by the refrigerated meat cooler and step in to peruse the shelves of “deals”. I find a couple, step out, add them to my cart and step back to finish my glance through. I find some olive oil and then rulers that would work well for shoebox gifts. {@operationchristmaschild}
Stepping out again to my cart, I find it….GONE.
My first reaction is to look wildly around and question my own sanity. {I’ve been wracking my brain recently to remember where I moved my audiobooks and “Didn’t I buy two of those staplers to use for gifts and where did I put them?”} So, the fact that my grocery cart is nowhere to be seen is cause for alarm and certainly could be my own inattention and misplacedness.
It really is gone, though.
The next logical thought process is, naturally, to think of shrieking loudly, “Somebody stole my cart!”
Of course, my introvert self refrains from shrieking and I rationalize that I’m pretty sure someone accidentally pushed away with it.
“Looks like I’ll be starting my shopping trip over,” I muse.
Looking both ways again and my cart not to be seen, I head to the front for an empty one.
I start to see the humor and I keep one eye open in the case I would spot someone else pushing “my cart”. I trek my way past bananas and strawberries and milk again. More butter please! I don’t want to miss that deal! Coming back around the store, I reach the alcove and what to my-one-eye-open should appear but MY CART!!!
Sitting quietly and cozily back in front of the meat cooler.
Of, course, AFTER I had retraced my steps and refilled my other cart.
{I really would love to have witnessed the reaction of the person who walked away with the wrong cart, when they looked down and realized this wasn’t the cart they’d meant to be pushing.}
Laughter definitely bubbles up now and here’s what I begin to think.
Life is story after story after story when I look for them.
Did I want to retrace my steps and spend more time? Not really.
Do I like a good story, no matter how simple? Most definitely!
Life. Little moments. Laughter. Yes, please. I need them!
And here’s what else I thought. I am grateful to live in a small county in Kansas, in a country where the norm really still weighs on the side of goodwill. Even though it was a truly odd feeling to find my cart missing, I was quite sure it was not intentional. Furthermore, technically nothing was even mine yet. I was simply filling it to purchase the items. Yet, I live in a place where even that is respected. I never expect to have people grab things from my cart. Living peacefully and respectfully are things I take for granted. The sense of dismay and a bit of indignation I felt when I stepped out to find “my cart” gone missing made me contemplate the feelings caused when something really is stolen.
When I was young, my grandparents’ home was broken into right before Christmas and
quite a few wrapped Christmas presents were stolen, including a couple of handmade gifts that aren’t easily replaced.
My husband’s home was robbed when he was a teen and he had a couple of favorite guns stolen along with a very large jar full of quarters. The thieves also grabbed his mother’s microwave and other various items that could be taken quickly and most likely sold easily for quick cash.
These thoughts ran through my mind as I thought about my random cart full of random things accidentally pushed away by another random shopper.
Bad things do happen. Sometimes very bad things.
But I’m grateful they aren’t the normal and they are wrong and there’s a sense in us that knows it’s so and we’re enraged {in a positive sense} against wrongdoing.
A shopping cart full of gathered groceries is a very little thing. But today it gave me a good lesson on looking below the surface of life and
breathing grateful once again for what I take for granted, for what I assume should be a normal. It’s not a given for everyone. Not everyone has a grocery store with shelves stocked full. Oh, and my town has more than one.
Not everyone gets to casually walk the store aisles and duck into the sale alcove.
Though, I felt a bit bewildered when my cart vanished, I wasn’t worried that I would go hungry tonight. That the store would close before I got something to eat. That the shelves would be empty.
I gather my groceries and I gather my gratitude and I grin at the good tale gifted to my by the absent minded grocery shopper.
You never know when a bit of story, some old-fashioned humor and a dose of inspiration are going to be dumped out on you.
You might want to keep an eye-out-for-it.
And one hand on your shopping cart.
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Laughing at your lost cart and enjoying all your musings said lost cart brought on. All so true. I was sorta hoping you did the shrieking just to know what the reactions would have been. And, yes, how fun it would have been to see the perpetrator when he/she realized the cart was not the one they started out with. So did you just let the original cart sit there alone or did you double up on groceries or put some back?! I’m still chuckling.
I ended up transferring my first cart contents to my second cart and retracing my steps to put back the doubles! 🙂 I got extra exercise in!! Ha!