I love bargains. It has been a necessity over the years that I maintain a frugal lifestyle. Notice I didn’t say cheap. It is so well ingrained in me that, even now, I accept the challenge of continually finding that deal.  One Saturday morning I found myself headed for the store’s check out with my arms full and a coupon in hand. I managed to snag 2 pairs of slacks, a pair of lounge pants, a sweater and a package of briefs all for the grand total of $37.00. I was ecstatic and the cashier shared my joy. The typical small talk ensued and I was struck by his accent. It had a melodic quality to it. Internally I questioned myself whether it would be appropriate to ask him where he called home. I have a friend from Sierra Leone and she too has that same melodic accent. I decided to ask but prefaced it with a disclaimer that I didn’t want to offend him. There was no offense taken and he cheerfully told me that he was from Ghana. Instantly I understood why his speech caught my attention as Sierra Leone and Ghana are both located in West Africa. Now that I have supplied you with today’s geography lesson I will finish by sharing that the cashier was more than happy to reveal his heritage. I would go so far to say that maybe he found it uplifting that someone took notice in a positive light and inquired. My smile stayed with me through the exit of the store and my amble across the parking lot. I reveled in the fact that happiness could be evoked by showing interest in a total stranger.

Completing my errands I stopped at a gas station to fill the tank. Something caught my eye during this mundane task. Across from the pumps, along the wall of the convenience store, a young woman was rifling through a trash bin. I initially thought that she might have thrown something away by accident. She started with the bin directly across from me and one by one she continued along the building, digging through the trash, until she was out of sight. I recalled the first time I observed this type of activity. I was a teenager on a trip to New York City. From my lofty perch, several floors above the street, my hotel window allowed me to witness an event that was forever committed to memory. I watched as an individual desperately scavenged through the trash looking for something to sustain him. I felt both distressed and helpless as I witnessed his plight. Watching this woman evoked the same feelings. I thought it would have been appropriate to offer her assistance but I hesitated too long as I continued to fill my tank. Then she was gone and I determined I had missed my opportunity.

I ask you not to judge as I confess I left the gas station to head to a drive thru across the street. It was late afternoon and I decided to pick something up to hold me over until I reached home. I am hearing impaired and there are times I struggle to understand what is being said through the speakers. I was appreciative that the clerk was not only articulate but his voice had a tonality to it that actually made him sound like he was happy to take my order. When I reached the window there was a young man wearing a headset. I inquired if he was the one that had taken my order and indeed he was. I complimented him on his speech and told him that his manager would do well to keep him on the front lines. I’ve never worked in fast food and don’t know if taking virtual orders is something to strive for but the clerk smiled and thanked me. Again, it was an opportunity to reach out to another human being and share a positive thought. With a smile lingering on my lips I drove toward the exit. Before I left the lot, I spotted the young woman from the gas station.

Now, once again, I had the opportunity to reach out to her. I took a moment or two to fumble through my wallet and pull out some bills. It would have been an amount sufficient to purchase a meal. She was lounging on the grass, sipping a drink that I am sure I saw her remove from the trash. I pulled the car up close to her and reaching out through the open window I offered her the money. She refused to take it. My heart sunk and I felt my entire body become tense. Did I offend her? She wasn’t asking for anything and maybe in my quest for the perfect trifecta of human interaction it had been more of an insult rather than the aid I was hoping to offer. I drove off with a sinking feeling that I caused more harm than good. The feeling lingered and I didn’t understand why it wasn’t easy to let it go.

Throughout the remainder of the weekend I replayed that scenario in my head. Why did I find it so distressing? I will admit that I created a story in my mind about the woman. It might have been close to the truth or miles away. One thought did creep through my mind and when it settled in the forefront I found it disturbing. What if I was upset, that by her refusal of help, she actually ruined my trifecta of perfect positive human interaction? That would be a harsh reality to accept and I sincerely hope that is not the case, that my actions would be so shallow. I will store the event with many others in an internal file called “Experience”. What I take with me is beautifully summed up in a post I found online: Do everything with a good heart, expecting nothing in return, and you will never be disappointed. Let’s move forward, striving to have positive interactions with one another and not ruin them by our own imperfection or misguided thoughts of recompense.