pass it on

2 days ago, I was standing in line at the checkout, 3rd customer back, with a large quantity of groceries in my cart. I had only Jiles with me and I was thinking how easy this trip had been with only one, sleeping, child with me. But then, that one sleeping child stirred. He stirred with one thing on his mind; he stirred loud; he stirred with the intent of expressing his nutritional needs.

I took him out of his carseat, positioned him facing out on my left hip, and started throwing things onto the belt, as it was now my turn to purchase. He didn't stop. I was so focused on hurrying my tail up that I was unaware of things around me.

Then, someone was next to me, helping me put stuff onto the belt. "I know how it is...," she started. She helped me finish getting the items onto the belt, and then came and helped me load stuff into bags and into the cart after the cashier had scanned them.

"You deserve a million blessings for this," I told her. "How can I thank you?" I started to help load her groceries, but she wouldn't let me.

"No you don't. Get out of here and go take care of that baby. Just pass it on to someone else."

Bless her!

5 hours ago, I was driving home from getting our air conditioner fixed in our ancient-of-days vehicle. An all-day trip. Kids aboard, 3 unbaked take-n-bake pizzas occupying the passenger seat next to me, listening to the second to last chapter of the last book in the Chronicles of Narnia series (this is how we spend our road time...we all dig 'em).

The final 12-mile stretch of road - the booniest part of the whole trip - we come upon an old blue sedan that is completely stopped, and half-way in our lane. Hmm. As I pass, I look to the side of the road on my right and see an old man who was kind of walking aimlessly. I pass right by.

Turn around...you should turn around. If you don't... You should turn around, thought I. My cell phone was on my lap.

So I did. I turned around. As soon as I stopped and rolled down the window, the old man asked if I had a cell phone. He was red, sweaty and shaky. It was, afterall, 90 degrees and not a lick of shade nearby. He asked if I would dial a number he had on this little card - some car helper service. I gave the phone back to him, and as he held it, I noticed he had a finger missing. So many men around here do. Then the phone went dead.

It turned out that he was from my town, so I offered him a ride home. He got his car out of the road (which I don't know why he didn't try before) and he hopped into our chill air-conditioned "burb" with us.

His name was Howard. "I just come from the VA Hospital," he said. "I had a heart by-pass not too long ago. Now I'm on meds that counteract in the heat and sunshine." Maybe that's why he was shaky. He served in the marines, joining at 18 years old, and went to Korea back in '52-'55. "Vietnam War?" I asked, and then felt immediately dumb.

"No, Korean." He shot a sideways glance at me and I felt even more dumb.

"Oh, right. I guess I don't know that much about History..." Not that you're old or anything.

We got to his dirt road and followed it toward the mountain until he told me to "turn here". A little travel trailer. Little, and parked under some sort of shelter thing. He thanked me, and I said goodbye. As I drove away, I quickly calculated his age...'52...2009-1952+18= 75. 75 years old.

I'm glad I turned around. I'm glad that I listened. I didn't really do much, I was going that way anyway. But it helped him.

I hope that the grocery-loading lady would consider this a valid pass-on.