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HeroicStories #750: And the Roses
Reaching more than 40,000 subscribers in 118 countries, this is...
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HeroicStories #750: 14 July 2008 www.HeroicStories.com
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And the Roses Story Editor:
by Marcia Mathis Joyce Schowalter
Alabama, USA
I was so tired that night in February 2002. All I wanted was to stay
home but I needed groceries badly so I made my way to the giant discount
store. Naturally, it was packed and I was getting peevish.
At the checkout line I was behind two other shoppers. The first was a
middle-aged couple, a burly biker with tats and a do-rag and his woman
in like dress. Behind them was a tiny old woman with gray hair dressed
in sweatpants and a ball cap.
The biker family was evidently shopping for a party and their buggy was
full of party stuff: beer, chips, hot dogs and the like. In stark
contrast was the little old lady's buggy, which contained only two
enormous bags of dry cat food.
"Hank" was busily unloading their cart when I began to chat with the
little old lady. I remarked that she must have a lot of kitties and she
told me that she fed a colony of feral cats who lived near a dumpster
behind a shopping center close to where she lived. I could tell Hank was
listening to our conversation.
As we talked it became clear how much the little old lady loved her wild
cats. She told me how long she'd been doing this and how hard it was.
But they depended on her, and it was something she not only felt she had
to do but wanted to do.
Soon Hank unloaded the remainder of his cart and then added a bunch of
roses they had in a display at the checkout for last-minute Valentine's
shoppers. Hank's wife got out her wallet to pay for their purchases.
Then Hank turned to the little old lady and said, "Would you allow me to
pay for your cat food? I love cats and I'd like to help with what you're
doing."
Now the little old lady, startled by this kind offer, was speechless for
a moment and then said "Oh, I couldn't let you do that..." but Hank
insisted he'd really like to and was so sincere. He smiled, reached over
the lady's basket to pull the two bags of cat food out of her buggy and
asked the cashier to ring them up on his bill.
Then he took the roses he had just bought, turned and presented them to
the little old lady and said "Happy Valentine's Day". By this time I had
a big lump in my throat, the little old lady looked as though she was
about to weep, and the cashier was wearing a smile that stretched clear
across her face.
I was so grateful I had decided to shop that night. Otherwise I would
have missed witnessing such beautiful generosity and kindness given from
one stranger to another.
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In last issue's story, "Redemption from the Mud" (#749), Mary shared her
experiences of working as a volunteer to rescue flood-damaged photos. As
a result she strongly recommends storing them above likely flood levels
and keeping copies, preferably outside your home.
Annette from Chennai, India, replied from personal experience. Annette:
"I clearly remember when my family was caught in a flood, which was a
heavy loss both financially, (I still have not recovered) and mentally.
We did save the photos, though we were so distraught at losing almost
everything that it was a few days before we opened the bag, and many
perished as a result. We had to strip the album, photo by photo, wash
them and dry them out. That day, only the good memories stored in those
photos brought hope back into our life. The happiness brought our family
very close. Now we are slowly limping back to normalcy. Thanks for the
suggestions on preserving our photos, the candle of light in our darkest
hour, in a better way."
Nancy in California had a similar experience for different reasons.
Nancy: "When my daughter was in about sixth grade, she took her friend
to see some pictures stored in our basement (we did not live near any
possible flood). Suddenly I heard a loud, 'OH NO!' When I went to see
what was wrong, I discovered the water heater had flooded the basement.
And someone had moved the box of all the kids' baby pictures along with
the negatives from a shelf to the floor. It had been a stressful week
and I burst into tears. Our wedding album was lying safely just above
the water, but the only "whole" baby pictures I still have are the ones
we sent to our parents and they returned to us. I'm so glad that I don't
know who moved the box."
Our previous issue featured the rerun story, "Three Penny Momma" (#748).
In it, the author, Don, remembered the love and stability he and his two
sisters received from his stepmother after they'd lived in an orphanage.
It's still on our archives, here:
http://www.heroicstories.com/archives.html .
Theresa from Suffolk, England, said, "Thank heavens for mothers. It's a
job that takes a lot of heart and a lot of brains. And I sometimes think
that DNA is the least important bit of it. Thanks, Don, for the
inspiration."
Sheila Crosby, Comments Editor
Joyce Schowalter, Networker in Chief
And many Volunteers behind the scenes, all
Co-Conspirators to Make the World a Better Place
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last updated: May 2005