On being mindful of little miracles.Yesterday I took my son to Walmart to get him new glasses. After we finished up with his exam and placing the order for his new eye wear we went over to the deli to get some BBQ chicken. As I approached the counter I saw a woman with a basket half full with kids, the other half with groceries and Christmas paper. I couldn’t see clearly at first what was happening, I just noticed that the toddler in the safety seat was crying, a 4 or 5 year old was eating a doughnut and looking at her mom, and an older child was looking at her mom with a bewildered look on her face. The mom was leaning into the cart, elbows on the handle, both hands cupped in front of her son, eyes roaming the area just a little wildly.
I thought at first that she was holding something the toddler was eating, but as I looked at her more closely I realized she was actually holding something he ALREADY HAD eaten. And that messy vomit was slowly dripping from her fingers and down her arms as she tried to keep her cool and find a place to throw it away.
I moved over to her and said “Oh! Let me help!” A woman on the other side saw too and said “Honey, what can I get you?”
The poor mom looked at both of us and apologized “I’m so sorry, I know it’s yucky…” I just said “It’s okay, we’ve both been thrown up on lots of times.” The other woman just smiled and nodded. I started looking around for a trash can, but there wasn’t one, so I rushed over to the vegetable display and grabbed a plastic bag, the other woman got a big handful of napkins from the deli counter. We helped this mom get the vomit thrown away, the deli counter worker brought out some wet wipes and hand sanitizer, and together we got mom and kids cleaned up.
She kept apologizing, saying how sorry she was to have inconvenienced anyone.
Here’s the thing. She wasn’t an inconvenience, and if I ever get so damn busy in my life that I’m “inconvenienced” by someone else’s need then I will seriously need to reevaluate what is important to me. Because there was nowhere else in the world I needed to be right then than right where I was, helping clean up a little kid that barfed up his pastry, comforting an embarrassed mom who just needed some help because her hands were more than full with being a parent, and feeling like I was part of the human family.
I walked away with nothing taken from me and a LOT added to my heart. It was such a small thing. I held open a bag so a tired mom could throw away the mess on her hands. I stayed with her long enough to make sure she felt solid again. The whole experience took less than five minutes.
And it was a miracle.
We look for the big events in our lives to label miracles. The deus ex machina events that sweep into our lives and save us from our situations. But that hasn’t been my experience with miracles.
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Miracles show up as a woman in a mall who gets in your way as you walk, head down, trying to disappear in the crowd, just so she can catch your eye and mouth the word “smile” as she passes you by, and you stop and watch her walk away and remember that there is a lot to smile about.
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Miracles show up as a jar labeled “Christmas”, full of pennies and wadded up dollar bills, that someone puts in your barely running Buick during a Church dinner the week before Christmas and you count enough change in it to buy Christmas dinner and stocking stuffers for your kids.
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Miracles show up as the kind, generous, gay couple who buys lunch for you and your kids at the fast food restaurant you stopped at to put water in the radiator of that same old Buick, with your kids in tow, while you were driving three hours to get to a job interview, and add to the food a little emotional support by saying, “Honey, it looks like you’re working hard, let us help you with lunch,” for no other reason than that they really saw you, and wanted to help.
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Miracles show up as a new phone, which because of some electronic glitch, has a voice message from your mom on it, one you never remember getting, that says “I love you, I’ll talk to you later!” right when you’ve been missing that voice you haven’t heard for over two years and would give almost anything to hear your mom tell you she loves you again.
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And sometimes miracles show up as a woman with a handful of vomit, in a crowded Walmart, who just needs an extra pair of hands, right when you’re feeling down, unimportant, and unnecessary because someone you thought was a friend turns out not to be a friend at all and says things that break your heart and make you hurt, and you happen to be there right when her need hits up against your own, and you have the opportunity to be a little miracle in each other’s lives.
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Those kinds of miracles are all around us, every day of the year. Little opportunities to reach out and partake of the joy that is waiting for us just on the other side of compassion.
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I thank God for helping me see them, for blessing me with so much love, in a million little ways of sharing, giving, and receiving that I can’t help but recognize the little miracles happening all around me, in the faces, hands, and hearts of the people I walk through life with.
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