Is It Time for a New Camera?

I’ve always felt things deeply.

I cheer for the underdog. I rail against injustice. I adore gallantry and old-fashioned romance. I have a deep reverence for God, country, and tradition.

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 thoughtfully, 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 the other day–a time 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 witnessed at the supermarket recently.

Many years ago, I visited a popular, upscale department store in search of the perfect birthday gift for my mother. I wanted to give her just the right thing that year. 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?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, automatically returning her smile. “I’d like to see that necklace, please.”

No response.

I thought, perhaps, she hadn’t heard me so I directed her attention to the correct display case.

“It’s that one. The gold one with the crucifix.”

“Oh,” the sales clerk returned, her perfectly plucked eyebrows arching in obvious surprise. “My dear, what you would 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 was dressed in 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 a bit 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 several days. I could have shared the fact that day was the first day I’d felt comfortable enough to leave his side for 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 recently 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 offered, apologetically. “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 momma up! Her children were well-dressed, well-behaved, and my heart went out to the small family.

Again, that incident cemented the notion that regardless if we think we know the whole story or not, never ever presume we see the entire snapshot of someone or something based solely on the visual before us.

******

Sometimes, it’s all too easy to form preconceived notions about others. Has the shoe ever been on the other foot though? Do you think that people have ever formed an opinion about you based on the outer snapshot?