The Gift of Groceries

There was no mistaking that voice. It was loud and twangy….perfect for those country songs he was always singin’. He called out my Mom’s name as he walked through the back door. Nobody locked their doors back then. At least not during the day.

He was a big man, the only son of my parents’ good friends. He was around the same age as my older sister. It was odd that he came by. He was a young, married guy and visitors that “stopped by” were usually older. What was he doing here? And why was he using the back door?  

“Glen? Is that you?” Mom called from the kitchen table. She was reading the newspaper…more than likely the Help Wanted section.  

“Yuuuupp, it’s me, he drawled. Just thought I’d swing by with a few things.” By now he was in the kitchen setting brown paper bags on the linoleum counter.    

“What?  What in the world?” Mom was so taken back she didn’t even get up. Instead, she sat at the table and cried. She cried deep, heavy sobs that hadn’t been released since Dad lost his job.  

Glen made several trips to his car and back to our tiny kitchen. Cereal boxes peeked from the top of a bag. Celery stalks stood tall from another. A doubled bag was laden with heavy packages of wrapped meat. Canned goods, boxed dinners, macaroni and cheese….

“How? How did you know?” she sobbed some more…overwhelmed by his kindness. “Glen, thannnnnk you. Thaaaank you”, she whispered as he set down the last of the bags. Her voice now faint from all of her tears.

“Ok, time to run on home now.” And with that, he was gone.  

I had been standing in the hallway near the kitchen table. I wasn’t sure what to do. So I just stood there.

Mom slowly rose from her chair and stood before the bags on the counter. She looked through them as if they held precious treasure. I stepped into the kitchen and helped her put everything away. We said nothing.

Years passed, decades actually, when the memory of those groceries came to mind. I was a married mother of three young children and mature enough to realize how that generosity touched Mom’s heart. I understood her tears….completely.

I wrote him a letter. I wanted him to know what an impact he made on me and thank him for his selfless gesture. He and his family had long since moved away, but I found his address in Tennessee and dropped the letter in the mail. Some time had passed when I received a card back from his wife.  

Seems an act of kindness such as his takes wing. And in his golden years, blessed him full circle.  It’s never wrong to do the right thing. Do something. Today.