a friendly face
I was always one to avoid talking to strangers
until the icy blast of a midwest winter
stole my breath away, and I found myself loitering
in the natural foods aisle of the Woodman’s.
“that one is the best,” I’d say to the stranger
looking at my favorite gluten-free brand.
“really? thanks!” she’d reply.
if I was lucky,
the conversation would continue,
and I’d learn that her sister was gluten-free
and would soon be visiting
from out of town.
other days I was not as lucky.
and the loneliness howled,
pushing through the cracks
and chinks in my weak siding,
threatening to put out the fire beneath.
so I cracked a smile at the people standing at the checkout counter
usually, it was the checkers who would talk to me saying,
“do you need any help out today?”
to which I’d politely reply, “No, I’m okay!”
even though I was not.
one week, a Guatemalan Abuela visiting her son
was ahead of me in the checkout lane,
and though she spoke no english,
her smile wrapped around me like the thickest woven blanket
as she clucked and cooed over my precious baby girl,
reaching out a weathered hand to stroke her pale blonde head.
“no mama!” her son sighed, eyes blaring in apology.
“you can’t just touch a stranger’s baby!”
and maybe she didn’t understand,
or maybe she chose not to understand—
but her tenderness warmed me for weeks.
one night I shopped too late
because we needed bread.
my husband offered to go,
but I said I’d do it.
the store was quiet and nearly empty,
as I pushed my squeaky-wheeled cart
down the natural foods aisle
alone
while the winter wind screamed outside.
only the self-checkout lanes were open that night,
maybe because of the weather?
and I wept
as I loaded my bags in the trunk of my freezing car,
balancing the broken trunk door on my head
because it never stayed open in the cold.
if someone had asked me that night -
“did you find everything
you were looking for?”
I would have said,
“no.”
I hadn’t gone there for bread.
not really.
(Photo by Eduardo Soares on Unsplash)
This poem comes from the “over Distance” section of poetry book as the Sparrow flies, on sale now at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Bookshop.org and MORE. Click here for purchase options.