Living at its finest

The following event occurred a little over a week ago, and I've pondered on this incident every day since. Actually, the entire concept is something I've pondered on awhile, but after my little trip to Holly's gas station in Not-Even-On-The-Map, Alabama, I've wanted to share it with all three of my non-family readers.

My family went to one of my dad's client's land to pick blackberries Saturday morning. Near the end of our little adventure, I volunteered to drive up to the local gas station to buy us some cold drinks. (Ok, I'll be honest, my bladder had other intentions of my side trip.) My entire experience, which lasted maybe five minutes, will stay with me for a long time. 

I parked the car near the front door. As I approached, an older man was exiting, and, like a true gentleman, stood a moment longer to hold the door for me. I thanked him enthusiastically (I always make a point to put a little spirit in my voice when I do in hopes the person providing the service really knows I appreciate it). He simply replied, "Yes ma'am," and tipped his head in my direction. He went his way, I went my way. After providing my bladder with much-needed relief, I perused the wall of refrigerated drinks to find exactly what each member of my family wanted. While looking through one particular door, another man stepped beside me and joined in. He asked, "Do you mind if I get one?" I answered, "Of course not! Go ahead!" Again, with enthusiasm. I appreciated him asking before he stepped right in front of me, blocking my view. It was a very simple gesture, but it reflected his good manners, and I certainly noticed. After he left, I grabbed all the drinks we needed and walked to the counter. Here, I was met with more kindness. The cashier said to me as I placed everything on the counter, "You did some things right and some things wrong." I asked what he meant, thinking he was referring to my Bama shirt and Georgia hat (thanks Eric), but he said he'd tell me in a minute. I should mention that before that, he wished me a good morning through a wide smile. He rang up four of the six drinks, leaving the blue Powerade and purple Gatorade last. 

On a side note, does anyone ever identify Powerades or Gatorades by their actual flavor? I thought not.

He told me that I was right in getting the Powerade because they were on sale, but I was wrong because the Gatorade was not. I informed him that my husband preferred Gatorade, and my brother preferred Powerade. He asked if I was sure, and I replied yes. It was simple, but I greatly appreciated his attempt to save me 50 cents instead of just ringing it up. By the time I walked out of the door of Holly's, I felt profoundly different. Inside that station, there were people of different races, different socioeconomic status, and different ages. But one thing was common among all of us - We knew how to respect each other. We were polite to each other. We all seemed to understand that we were human beings with our own stories, our own backgrounds, and maybe that day could be a little easier if we just showed a little bit of kindness. Every act was simple, nothing that drew attention to the respective individuals, and certainly nothing I'm sure they thought would have such an effect on me. But it did. 

I know I'm not perfect, but I always, always, always try to be kind and respectful of everyone I meet. I smile at strangers, I hold doors open for others, I say thank you and please, I say ma'am and sir no matter their age. Sure, it means that I will probably get taken advantage of. I know how true the saying "nice guys finish last" really is, but I wouldn't want to be any other way. 

I vowed to myself when I left Holly's that I would try harder to be that source of inspiration someone else might need on another day in another situation. 

As I left Holly's, I thought that this was living at its finest. Not with money or fancy cars or having the latest tech gadgets. It's just one person being nice to another person.