A Splash of Colour

Every once in a while there are little things that pop-up in our day-to-day lives that add a splash of colour to the otherwise mundane. Often simple, and brief, they're things like that rare smile that emerges from the solemn faces along those cold morning runs, or that day you're working in Starbucks and they just happen to be giving out samples of all their goodies behind the counter.

In reflecting on these "colours" I was reminded of a brief interaction I had with a child a few nights ago and decided to write:

Being end of semester, life is pretty much school at the moment. As deadlines are approaching, and a workload exists that (ofcourse) isn't as far along as it needs to be, time is tight, and every second of the day feels precious. So precious, in fact, that things like eating and sleeping start to fall down the list of priorities.

I was headed home from a long day at school where realized I could not go another night eating hummus and crackers for dinner, and reluctantly decided I should probably restock my empty fridge. So, I headed to the grocery store promising myself it would be a quick pop in and out.

Now, have you ever noticed that every time a trip to the grocery store fixed to a tight time limit, the grocery store context seems to morph into some sort of nightmarish obstacle course? Argh. For some reason people move slower, the sections you frequent have mysteriously been moved to other parts of the store for no apparent reason, and basic items never out of stock are seemingly out of stock. It feels unusually hot and stuffy, and the pale yellow fluorescent lighting seems to sting the eyes more than usual. For once, things are on sale that are never on sale, so you're forced to pause at each choice and debate between your present and future self. There is always a sense of euphoria at that glorious moment you see the finish line in sight. You finally make it to you the checkout, with a basket too small for the tokens of your grocery store experience. When you notice the express lane has one person almost finishing checking out, you can feel the corners of your lips lift temporarily forming the glimpse of a smile as you make a b-line towards the cashier. Sadly, the smile fades as quickly as it emerged, as you count the items in your basket and realize you are 2 items over. Like a dog with it's tail between it's legs, you retreat from the express lane to realize the only other cashier has a line so long it runs down the aisle. At this point you slow your pace to match all the other patrons in the store and submit to the line.

This, is a fairly accurate description of my grocery store experience that day.

Upon finishing at the checkout and squeezing as many of my groceries into my backpack without breaking the zipper, I heaved the bag, about the weight of a small person, onto my back and let out a sigh of relief as I was that much closer to returning to my pajama pants. With a pep in my step, I began exiting the store.

My escape came to a quick stand still as I got caught behind a couple and a child dawdling along a hallway too narrow for me to pass. I slowed down and patiently reminded myself I was almost there. Trundling along, I noticed the child in front of me look back. He was probably 8 or 9. Both ears peirced, a big puffy jacket, and big trundling winter boots, he had dark hair, dark eyes, and big black rimmed glasses that magnified his eyes. He was a cute kid for sure, one that you could just tell had a personality. Anyway, he turned away after making eye contact with me. We kept walking.

But then he looked back again. I smiled this time. He turned away, timidly, and kept walking beside his parents.

But again, he looked back. Smiled this time and slowed down to walk beside me. Looking up at me silently, we walked side by side for a while. I smiled again and said "hello." He smiled back this time.

We both kept walking, side by side, when he muttered something under his breath. Unable to hear him, I stopped and crouched down and said "Sorry?" He put his hand up to my ear, and said "Say excuse me" and lifted his hand making the motion that I interrupt his parents ahead and ask to go around. This kid was maybe 8! and here he was taking the lead ahead of his parents! I said, "Aww, I'm ok.. we're almost there." This time he stopped however, and with a smile he said "Go" lifting his eyebrows and nodding his head nudging me to be more aggressive to approach his parents and go around them.

When I left the store that day, I had forgotten that whole grocery store experience and left with a smile . It was such a subtle act, nothing profound had occurred in those few minutes, it was just a small act of kindness from a child more aware than most of us. That boy was the colour to my mundane that day, and I suppose I treasure it for it's simplicity.