Holding On to the Christmas Spirit
Tonight, I observed the conclusion to a story that warmed my otherwise cold heart to Christmas:
The story begins with a girl--19--who recently began a job at a local grocery store. She's nervous about this new job, as most people are when they begin a job in a field they've never served within. Regardless, irritable customers still find their ways into her evening, creating stress and causing terror for her nights. There is one customer in particular who plays a large role in this story: a man--about 40--who becomes quite upset and slightly violent over a bag of M&M's. This is the story of how my sister found a friend in a man she, upon first meeting him, resented.
About three weeks ago, this man reentered the store that my sister works at and requested to speak to the manager. He wasn't there to complain, though; he was there to apologize. For almost two months, he had wrestled with inner turmoil over the occasion during which he exploded at my sister and made her evening hell. He had even talked with his religious leaders many times over this time--the feeling of guilt was so overwhelming.
That day, though, he changed the hearts of several employees at this grocery store. He told the manager--as well as a few other employees--about how he had been going through some rough times: the burden of having his parents living with him (a dementia-riddled mother and an arthritic father) was weighing heavily on him, along with a broken down car in the dead of winter and a wife who had recently found out she had cancer. Emotions had been building up within him until he completely snapped at my sister. But, here he was, hoping to get an apology out to her in order to renew his peace of mind and conscience.
My sister wasn't there on that day; she was told within the next couple of days that the man had returned; and, upon leaving, informed them of a play he was participating in here in Rexburg. So, my sister decided that we would go see the play; however, we didn't make it, and didn't even think about it again until tonight.
We were just driving by the theater when we noticed the play getting out. We drove for a few blocks before Katrina decided that she needed to turn around. Once at the theater, we got in line and waited to talk to this man--who, the last time she had saw him, he had been in her face; and she had been quite afraid of him. Once she got to talk to him, though, she asked if he knew who she was before telling him that she worked at a grocery store. Upon realizing, he removed his hat.
She told him that she forgave him for that night, and that she understood that sometimes people have a few rough days and end up taking them out on people who don't deserve it. Both parties close to tears, they embraced, and then my sister beckoned me for us to leave (I had been hitting on the dishy actor next to whom she was talking ;)). As she told me the rest of the story, I have to admit: like a baby, I cried, and I am warmed.
This man had tapped into the true spirit of Christmas (I think his role as Scrooge in the play helped). He recognized that he needed to fix things, no matter how humiliating it was for him to return to that store. It made all the difference to everyone who knows the story: he's no longer the crazy guy who fell apart over a bag of M&M's, he's the guy who taught us all about love and forgiveness, and the importance it can hold within even the smallest of moments.
The story begins with a girl--19--who recently began a job at a local grocery store. She's nervous about this new job, as most people are when they begin a job in a field they've never served within. Regardless, irritable customers still find their ways into her evening, creating stress and causing terror for her nights. There is one customer in particular who plays a large role in this story: a man--about 40--who becomes quite upset and slightly violent over a bag of M&M's. This is the story of how my sister found a friend in a man she, upon first meeting him, resented.
About three weeks ago, this man reentered the store that my sister works at and requested to speak to the manager. He wasn't there to complain, though; he was there to apologize. For almost two months, he had wrestled with inner turmoil over the occasion during which he exploded at my sister and made her evening hell. He had even talked with his religious leaders many times over this time--the feeling of guilt was so overwhelming.
That day, though, he changed the hearts of several employees at this grocery store. He told the manager--as well as a few other employees--about how he had been going through some rough times: the burden of having his parents living with him (a dementia-riddled mother and an arthritic father) was weighing heavily on him, along with a broken down car in the dead of winter and a wife who had recently found out she had cancer. Emotions had been building up within him until he completely snapped at my sister. But, here he was, hoping to get an apology out to her in order to renew his peace of mind and conscience.
My sister wasn't there on that day; she was told within the next couple of days that the man had returned; and, upon leaving, informed them of a play he was participating in here in Rexburg. So, my sister decided that we would go see the play; however, we didn't make it, and didn't even think about it again until tonight.
We were just driving by the theater when we noticed the play getting out. We drove for a few blocks before Katrina decided that she needed to turn around. Once at the theater, we got in line and waited to talk to this man--who, the last time she had saw him, he had been in her face; and she had been quite afraid of him. Once she got to talk to him, though, she asked if he knew who she was before telling him that she worked at a grocery store. Upon realizing, he removed his hat.
She told him that she forgave him for that night, and that she understood that sometimes people have a few rough days and end up taking them out on people who don't deserve it. Both parties close to tears, they embraced, and then my sister beckoned me for us to leave (I had been hitting on the dishy actor next to whom she was talking ;)). As she told me the rest of the story, I have to admit: like a baby, I cried, and I am warmed.
This man had tapped into the true spirit of Christmas (I think his role as Scrooge in the play helped). He recognized that he needed to fix things, no matter how humiliating it was for him to return to that store. It made all the difference to everyone who knows the story: he's no longer the crazy guy who fell apart over a bag of M&M's, he's the guy who taught us all about love and forgiveness, and the importance it can hold within even the smallest of moments.
That is a beautiful story. :)
ReplyDeleteGive Katrina a hug for me! She's a good kid.
Will do :)
ReplyDelete