Giving Blindly

“Ma’am”? The concerned grocery clerk said, with a raised eyebrow, snapped Susan out of her exhausted daze. 

“What, Oh, I’m sorry, I was just..” Susan drifts off apologetically. 

“No worries”, the weary clerk, Lorraine continued. “I was just asking if you wanted to donate to the local Women's Shelter before I give you your total. We’re collecting donations for them this week” she said in a hopeful tone, taking a heart shaped tag out, waiting to hear how much Susan wanted to give. 

Susan, knowing she didn’t have much to spare, but also remembering her Grandfather’s Golden Rule, “If you see an outstretched hand, always give what you can”. 

“Sure”, Susan says, trying to sound genuine, “add $5 if that’s okay”. 

Feeling like she had done her part, Susan gathered her groceries and headed to the exit, anxious to get home and relax. It had been a long day at work. On her way out of the store, she caught a glimpse of an elderly lady, with silver messy hair and a worn pink house dress, shuffling towards the door with a grocery bag hung on the handle of her walker. Susan wanted to unsee what she had seen and keep walking but she couldn’t and she knew that she needed to wait and hold the door open for this struggling senior. As Susan waited she realized she needed to pee and kept focused on the little tennis balls at the bottom of the walker to pass the time, which seemed like forever. When the shuffling pink lady realized that Susan was holding the door for her, the worried and strained lines on her face disappeared as she smiled at Susan with gratitude. For a moment Susan smiled back, sincerely.

Finally she was on her way home and really ready for that cold beer, pee break and some play time with her Yellow Lab Max. She pulled into her driveway just in time to see two neighborhood girls and their Moms, with defeated tired faces walking away from her door.

Susan got out of her car, grabbing her groceries and against her bladders wishes, she called out to the discouraged little girls asking how she could help. The little ones lit up like beams of sun and ran back to her , their backpacks and hair bouncing in time with each other. The Moms turned slowly and came back as well, just not nearly with the same excitement. “They must’ve been out there canvassing the neighborhood for quite a while”, Susan thought to herself. 

As the bundle of giggles came to a stop at Susans door, they tore open their backpacks to showcase the cookies that they were selling for a school field trip. Susan mustered a tired but animated smile. These girls were adorable, but she certainly didn’t need more cookies in her life. She had no idea what they said about the field trip, she just knew that she really needed to pee, and really wanted to be inside with her dog and her dinner. The youngest girl, had unbelievable blonde curls that seemed to bounce with the cadence of her speech. That became fascinating to Susan as she zoned out again, waiting for them to be done with their pitch. Once they were done, she handed them a $10 that she had already fished out of her purse, exchanged it for 2 boxes of cookies that she might one day eat with a bottle of wine and watched the two sweet girls giggle and squeal their way back down the driveway and their moms were barely making their way up. They exchanged waves and Susan was finally able to close her door.

She exhaled and received her welcome home kisses from her sweet boy Max. My goodness how much she loved him. He was a rescue that she adopted a few years ago. She thought about him all day and bought him a special treat every time she went to the store. She hugged him tight, exhaling the day away and kissed that sweet spot on his cheek, right below his ear. She gave him his treat for the day and finally made her way to the bathroom to  change clothes and go through her mail.

While sifting through the mail, she noticed a postcard that was from a local food pantry. They were running low on everything and needed help. They were sending someone out to pick up the donations and all she had to do was fill a bag and leave it on the porch.  That sounded easy enough.

After they both ate their dinners, Max went to forage in the backyard while Susan got a bag out to see what she could spare from her cupboards. She actually found quite a bit, as her 17 year old Niece had visited not too long ago and she had over-stocked a bit, having no clue what a 17 year old would eat. There were the normal dusty cans of veggies that should, but honestly would never eat. Those cans filled the first bag. Susan was pretty encouraged to see that she had enough Pop Top Instant Meals/Snacks from her Nieces visits to fill a whole other bag. 

Realizing that she only had one bag, Susan left the second pile of goods on the counter, to hunt down a second bag from the hall closet. That closet never failed to have any size box or bag that she could need. A weird tradition carried over from childhood she supposed. It was always amazing to her. “ A junk drawer of sorts, but closet style” she marveled to herself, giggling.

As she found the perfect bag and rounded her way back to the kitchen, she heard the jingling of Max’s tags as he ran back outside. He had a mischievous aire about him so she cautiously checked her pile. Sure enough, two of the Chef Boyardee Pop Top cans were missing. Susan rushed out back, calling for Max and found him right as he was burying his new found treasure.

Max was less than thrilled as he sat and watched Susan unearth his loot and undo all of his hard work. He stood by, confused and disappointed until Susan gave him another treat and a pat on the head as a reminder that he is still her best boy.

She then took the two cans, that now were covered with caked on mud and bite marks and tried her best to clean them. She was able to remove most of the mud and felt so wasteful throwing out the cans due to bite marks that most people wouldn’t even notice. She dried them with her worn kitchen towel, looked them over one last time and in the second bag they went.

The next day, Susan placed the bags outside for pick up and went about her day as usual.

About a week went by, of very similar days and nights for Susan.

On a drizzly, soft Tuesday morning, Susan was getting ready for work. There was another postcard in the mail that she had gotten about another random collection. This time it was for used clothing. This one was easy. She threw together a few bags of old shirts and dresses while getting ready and set them on the porch on her way out the door. 

While stuck in traffic, there were Firemen collecting for something. She honestly had no idea what, she was just enjoying the view. They had a boot that they were filling. She reached in her purse and found a $10 and giggled awkwardly, enjoying her ten seconds of attention as the handsome Firefighter said “Thank you Ma’am” while she clumsily managed to stuff the bill in the boot. 

The light turned green and with that she snapped back to reality, also remembering that it was her turn to bring donuts into the office today. “Crap”, she thought. “That’s what that $10 was for”.

As she changed her GPS route to find a donut shop she noticed the weather was really starting to change. It was getting dark and windy, with a greenish tinge. She started trying to remember if she had watched the weather last night and realized that she didn’t, that she actually hadn’t for a few days.

The winds started howling and a big clap of thunder made her jump out of her skin. “Where the hell is this donut shop?!” she said to herself aloud. As the sky seemingly opened up, the rain started pouring down, Susan finally saw the glowing donut, two blocks away. 

Feeling an increasing sense of urgency, she picked up her speed and noticed that her heart seemed to be beating to the tempo of her windshield wipers. Finally pulling into the lot, Susan’s frantic pace was interrupted by the flashing of blue and red lights, in front of the shop. She looked through the rain to see an officer standing in the doorway, trying to stay dry but it looked like he had a young child by the arm. 

Susan, concerned and needing shelter, not to mention donuts, decided to make her dash through the now sideways rain and interrupt whatever was happening in there. Gathering herself once inside, she eavesdropped on what was unfolding with the Police. Evidently, this little boy, Michael and his mom were homeless. That thought just made Susans heart drop. He had to be no more than 8. His brown hair and eyes, his dirty sweet face. He could be anyone. She had never really seen a real homeless person before, let alone a homeless child. Susans thoughts were swirling already.

Michael and his mother were homeless, and they ducked into the donut shop to take shelter from the storm. The shop owner, who was probably embarrassed or afraid to have them there, insisted that they pay for something or leave. They were explaining that they didn’t have any money but Michaels mother refused to leave as the storm was getting worse. So the shop owner called the Police. 

As the Officer was hearing all side, trying to talk some sense into the shop owner and trying to keep the embarrassed boy from running out the door, the tornado sirens started to sound. They all looked at each other with huge frantic saucer eyes and the lights started flickering. The shop owner, dropping his guard, screamed for everyone to follow him. They all followed and helped each other into the storm shelter in the back of the store. 

Once in the shelter, a strange calm came over everyone. Each person took their time realizing what had happened and that they were safe now. Each one eventually exhaled. As they caught their breath, little Michaels mom, completely worn and exhausted, went to her son, who was curled up by himself in a corner, holding his tattered backpack.  She stroked his hair and reminded him to eat something. Susan quietly watched and admired the mothers love and concern as she helped her son open his bag. He pulled out a plastic fork that looked like he had used it several times before and then he pulled out a familiar can that caught Susans eye. A Chef Boyardee Pop Top with faint bites on the can.

Susans heart sank. She was raised to always lend a hand. To always give when asked. To always look for a chance to help. However she ‘d always given blindly. She had done it hundreds of times in hundreds of ways but had never thoughts about the person on the receiving end. The face. The story. The real people.

A police officer broke the silence by opening the storm shelter and giving the all clear. Susan’s was frozen though, her tears were flowing.