I dislike going to the grocery store. I really dislike going to the grocery store to pick up one item. Something about the time it takes, the gas I use, and the people I have to fight through to get one item usually leads me to stay home and make due without the item. When I need several items, then I make the dreaded trip.
I made one such trip on Friday afternoon during lunch. I had three things on my list and was determined to be in and out of the store within five minutes. As I headed into the store, I got behind an elderly couple walking extremely slow. The man, slightly doubled-over and looking like he probably needed a little help, was supporting the woman, who was using a cane, by locking elbows with her. It almost looked like they like were using each other for support and if one of them had let go, they both would have crashed to the ground.
Something about seeing an elderly couple showing signs of support and affection gets to me. I'm especially sentimental about such things because my grandparents modeled love in this fashion for me as I was growing up. When my grandpa got critically ill, my grandma was right there with him—feeding him, helping him out of bed, changing his clothes, taking him to the bathroom, all the while, treating him as the love of her life that he had always been.
Of course, the couple in the store might have been brother and sister or maybe even just friends, but neither of those scenarios would change the fact that they love each other. I see people like this as walking testimonies of love in a culture that doesn't appear to even understand what love is. It's easy to be "in love" and show affection toward others when we're young and/or in lust. It's much harder to actually put love into practice by persevering with someone through trials. And let's be honest, if love doesn't persevere, can we really call it love?
So, I waited for this couple to get inside the store and eventually made my way toward the isles I needed to get to. After I picked up two of the things on my list and was headed for the third, I passed an elderly woman slowly pushing a shopping cart past the meat section. She stopped and said this to the two butchers behind the counter: "I just have to say that your display looks beautiful."
I felt like I was in a television commercial or something. Who actually stops to compliment people for a job well done anymore? Perhaps people who have lived long enough to know that others are more important than racing in and out of a store with the sole purpose of getting everything on a shopping list within five minutes.
