Ten Items or Less

There were two things on my mind as I waited for the cashier in the “Ten Items or Less” line at the grocery store - I was wondering how much colder my feet would have to get before frostbite set in and I was hoping I had enough cash to pay for my pork chops, chili and soup without having to dig for my checkbook. I was distracted and anxious to get home and I only looked up and around out of idleness but even then what caught my attention was not the man but the filthy, yellowish jumpsuit with the hood. He wasn't so much wearing it as he was encased in it, like what the bikers wear in winter, I thought, quilted and insulated. I wasn't so sure about warm.

What I could see of his face was thin, pale, deeply lined and smeared with dirt. Bedraggled wisps of hair hung onto his forehead, some reached nearly to his eyes, and I wouldn't have been too surprised to see something crawl out from his tangled and matted beard. He moved slowly and stiffly to lay his purchases on the conveyer belt - three plastic bags of ramen noodles, one package of bologna, a box of Lil Debbie's sweet buns - his hands were patchy and splattered with dried mud, the nails ragged and grimy. There was a slight trembling to them. The cashier, herself bundled up in a jacket with a bright red muffler wound 'round her neck and tied in a cheerful bow, asked if he'd found everything he needed. He nodded and allowed as he had. She smiled and wished him a Happy New Year and he returned the greeting but what remaining teeth he had were random and blackened with decay and the words came out slightly slurred.

She pretended not to notice, bagging his purchases, handing him his change and telling him to stay warm and come back soon.

I was headed home to a relatively warm home, a dinner of pork chops slow cooked in broccoli and cheese soup, and a houseful of animals who would give me a loving welcome. The car wouldn't be warmed up until I got home but at least I had a car. And a job. And a place to shower and sleep and be safe. My feet, cold as they still were, wouldn't be that way much longer.

Sometimes a reminder to be grateful is nothing more than noodles, bologna, and sweet buns.