Passing a Moment of Clarity

by Laura Roebuck

The parking lot is busier than the 405 at rush hour, if that is possible. The extra-large carts to hold all those extra-large party platters are more difficult to navigate than my Christmas gift list. At every aisle intersection a huge cart jam awaits as we all scramble for the free sample of bagel bites.

This was the holiday scene at our local mega-huge store, Costco. I was grabbing a few last minute gifts and groceries for the Christmas party we were having that night. It was early morning and I was in between on off-site meeting and my office, in a hurry and on a mission. Ten minutes and I had $100 worth of stuff in my cart. As I scurried toward the checkout line the full-holiday retail machine in action, a Costco cashier actually came to my cart and scanned my items while I was still three carts from the checkout counter. As he gave me my total and it suddenly occurred to me that my husband had borrowed my ATM card yesterday. Yikes. Costco doesn’t accept credit cards. I stepped out of line, rooting through my purse to see if my hubby had dropped it back in. Nope. Checked the wallet, not enough cash to get a Venti, much less the items in my cart. I flipped open my cell phone, frustrated, and called him. Sure enough he had my ATM card and there I was with milk, pork tenderloin, a bunch of Christmas gifts and no way to pay. Needless to say I had no Christmas cheer at this point. I was angry at my husband, frustrated with myself and stuttering at the reality of not being able to walk out of the store with all of these things, have to come back later in the day, for which I had no time, or come up with a plan B for party food tonight and get the gifts tomorrow. Angry, almost panicking, on the verge of an anxiety attack: this was the pinnacle of my holiday experience in Southern California 2006.

Checkbooks, my husband called me back to see if I had the checkbook. I have totally forgotten about checkbooks. Two seconds before I walked away from that cartload of Christmas cheer, I remembered that I had a checkbook in my purse. I only write checks to pay bills. I forgot you could even use them at the store. I am saved! I jumped back in line, scooted through the checkout process and was happily on my way to my office in less than 10 minutes. The holiday spring back in my step, I even stopped to drop my extra change in the Salvation Army can outside the store.
I pulled off the freeway toward my office, stopping at the light I looked up to see a scrubby looking homeless man begging for extra change. Tears filled my eyes and shame my heart. Not ten minutes earlier I was throwing an absolute internal hissy-fit because I couldn’t find the right method of payment for $100 worth of “stuff” it took me 10 minutes to pick up. Rolling down my window, scrambling through my purse for any cash I had, he approached me and saw the tears streaming down my perfectly made-up face onto my Ann Taylor jacket. When I looked onto his eyes and handed him the money, the tears came in full force. He smiled gently and wished God to bless me.

All the way to work, I sobbed. This is not the person I want to be. I have been blessed abundantly materially, but more importantly with the very thing that this man on the corner suffers without: family and the incredible sense of home. Home is peaceful and full of love in a way that many people will never know.

I want to be a woman who lives through those moments in Costco with a deep knowledge of the man on the corner. Having a thankful heart is useless if it does not lend perspective to the moments when my character is pressed and the true nature of my heart is painfully visible. If generosity is only something that we feel when we are in the right mood, or things are going well in our little world, it is nothing more than a passing, shallow emotion. The commitment to be a generous and gracious person must take root in every-day reactions and decisions. This can only result from a disciplined mind and heart in the most frustrating circumstances. The moments we choose grace in spite of our circumstances are the moments we truly live.