Image Credit: Sapphire Dream Photography/PhotopinCC
I feel things deeply.
I adore gallantry and old-fashioned romance. I have a deep reverence for God, country, and tradition.
I cheer for the underdog. I rail against injustice.
Suffering in any form disturbs me. I want to help because I’m a doer.
In junior high, I once had a teacher refer to me as “an old soul” after I gave my opinion on slavery in America.
“It was tolerated, not because of ignorance,” I said, “but because of apathy. People were too self-absorbed to do the humane thing.”
My teacher nodded, surprised, as if she found it difficult to believe that such words could come from a seventh grader. I didn’t think my comment was all that profound. It never crossed my mind that others might not think the same way.
I recalled an incident when I felt like the underdog. I’m not sure what brought it to mind again after all these years, but I suspect it had something to do with an unintentional slight I saw at the supermarket.
Many years ago, I visited a popular, upscale department store in search of the perfect birthday gift for my mama. I set about my mission. I hoped to find something that expressed my love for her and something that was a reminder of the One who loved her even more than I.
As I strolled past the shiny glass display cases in the fine jewelry area, a beautiful, gold necklace caught my eye. The chain was fine and delicate, as was the small cross that dangled free.
The necklace was lovely and I knew that my mother would treasure it.
As I stood considering my possible purchase, a tall, attractive sales clerk wandered up beside me, her smile friendly, but her eyes aloof.
“May I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, automatically returning her smile. “I’d like to see that necklace, please.”
No response.
Maybe she didn’t hear me. I directed her attention to the correct display case.
“It’s that one. The gold one with the crucifix.”
“Oh.” The sales clerk’s perfectly plucked eyebrows shot up. “My dear, what you want would be over there.”
She draped an arm across my shoulder and knowingly pointed across the aisle. To the costume jewelry rack.
Now, it’s not often I’m left speechless, but that day just for a moment, I was rendered totally shocked. Baffled. Shamed. Mortified.
I wore jeans, a blouse, and a blazer and I had money to spend. And the sales clerk had drawn a very obvious conclusion. She didn’t think I could afford the purchase!
In all fairness, my clothing was a little rumpled. My hair, a little unkempt. My eyes were probably ringed in dark circles, and I’m sure my coloring was off.
I could have told the well-meaning sales clerk that my son was lying in the hospital, where he’d been a patient for the past week.
I could have shared the fact that day was the first day I’d felt comfortable enough to leave his side for more than just a few moments.
I could have also related that she’d just lost a sale, her commission from that sale, and that her behavior disappointed me. But I didn’t.
Instead, I stepped back, smiled again and said, “No, thank you. What I wanted was right here.”
I wasn’t ugly or rude about it.
I later purchased another necklace at a competitor’s store, but I remembered a lesson from that day. And I thought of it again one day as I watched a proud mother of two ask the supermarket checker a question about her food stamp coupons.
“I’m gonna have to get the manager to ring this purchase up,” the checker semi-apologized. “Sorry, but I don’t think you can use some of these…uh…food stamp thingys for some of this stuff.”
“I know,” the mother whispered. “That’s why I brought cash, too.”
I wanted to just love that mama right up! Her children were well-dressed, well-behaved, and my heart went out to the small family.
The checker fingered some of the items on the counter. “Okay. But we still have to wait on him to ring you up. Just the way the cookie crumbles.”
The way the cookie crumbles.
Really?
What an insensitive thing to say.
The woman fiddled with her car keys and patted her toddler’s curls. “I understand.”
But I didn’t. And I wanted to say something. I wanted to lighten the moment—let the mother know someone stood in her corner.
“A girl and a boy—a perfect combination. Your children are beautiful.” I smiled at the trio. “Such pretty blue eyes.”
“Thanks. They look just like their dad. He died last year—he had cancer.”
The checker’s head snapped up. “I…uh…oh. I’m sorry.”
I really think she was.
Another incident that cemented my thinking—the notion that regardless if we think we know the whole story or not, we should never ever presume.
The outer snapshot doesn’t always give a complete visual.
Just some food for thought.
Now, go love on an underdog—and cheer that person on with your whole, entire heart!
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PLEASE SHARE
Know an underdog? Ever been one? What we learn from those who are.
ADDITIONAL INSPIRATION
What Comes to Mind When Others Hear Your Name?
Do you think people have ever formed an opinion about you based on the outer snapshot?
How do you cheer for the underdog?
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I’m taking a blog break on Monday, but I’ll return again Wednesday, February 4th.
See you then!
Blessings Always,
Comments 2
Love this post, Cynthia! I can recall moments like these we witness…they tend to stick with you.
And yes, I’ve had someone mis-judge me because of the way I was dressed. When the kids were little, I saved up money to buy a camcorder. (This is when camcorders were big in the 80’s) To the salesman, I probably looked like a frazzled mother of 3 – jeans and a sweatshirt…hair in a ponytail, and he probably assumed no money. But I did have money. I had 900 dollars cash in my pocket to buy a good camcorder that was on sale for $800. The gentleman at the counter was waiting on a man who was “just looking” – a fine dressed man was getting all of the attention. I finally got the salesman’s attention and he pointed me to some cheap, out of date, camcorders for $200. I said I wanted to see the one that was on sale. He told me, in front of everyone around the counter, that it was too expensive. Wow! I was embarassed. Yes, I could have whipped out my wad of money. But like you, I wasn’t rude, I went to a competitor and got a great deal- with a case, tripod, and all. I’ve learned never to judge a book by its cover.
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Ohhh, Loree! Shame–shame, shame, shame on that salesman! I can just picture it–how rude! And so very, very sad. I pray I always see others through Jesus’s eyes and not through my own foggy lens.
I raise my pompons to all the cheerleaders! Go, Team Encouragers!