tim’s thought property

As I have learned in the last few months, the world of retail can be one with a shadow of money looming over it. And on days where I don’t feel particularly amicable or sociable, then I lose sight of the potential to reach others. I mean, as a person who’s job puts him into contact with many different people, I have the potential to give them a brief sense of happiness that they did not expect. For good or for ill, I can contribute to the mood of a person’s day; all of us can.

This week, one night, in fact, I was given a contribution that I didn’t expect.

Some of the regulars who come on certain nights happen to be a man and his son. They sit in the cafe and read until close. About halfway through their stay, they will order their drinks. A kid’s hot chocolate in large mug with extra whipping cream happens to be the boy’s favourite treat. Each time they approach the counter, they both are smiling and in delightful moods, and the boy always jokes around. He always wants to buy all the cookies, and have his father get only water. Each time the drink is made with the extra whipping cream and handed off with a spoon, the boy’s face lights up all the more, and there is actual happiness in this small, small act of service. And even though it takes no time to make, and it’s always the same drink, he takes it in like it is the greatest gift he can get.
Feeling the joy from the genuine attitude of father and son touched me in a way that I had seemed to have forgotten. To find happiness in simplicity, and peacefulness in the reaction of strangers, it makes me wonder why I do not slow down to savour life. It makes me wonder what drives me to get so inward focused and closed to the world, losing sight of what being alive is really about.

Later that night, a woman who was a deaf mute came in to order two drinks. She motioned for a paper and pen to write down what she wanted, signalling that she couldn’t hear me. I gave her the means to order, and even clarified the order, specifying what type of eggnog beverage she wanted. Using the only sign language I knew, I told her “thank you” [for ordering] and briefly spoke to her in a way that she could understand.
This happened to be at the end of the night, and I thought about how someone without the means to hear or speak is still living life with every means she can. It struck me, what she may or may not experience during the bustle of the season, and how blessed she is, in her own way, to not be bombarded with seasonal music or questions to up-sell or add more to a purchase. In a way she’s trumped the system and can get through to the heart of things.

I was given two different ways to see things, to see through the things that are cluttered around me. Sometimes I feel that my perception is often subtly blocked and that I miss so many things that pass by me each day. All the more reason to be taking things slower and enjoying life more.