Channeling Tom Joad *

This morning I found this true story I'd written in the early 2010s, which I don't think I ever posted.  I was dead broke at the time, and any spare dollar went towards BC's care. (Brief backstory: I'd recently returned from living on the boat; the Captain had wiped me out financially; and the Great Recession still affected the economy, so people weren't exactly buying fancy gourds.)  I remember the following supermarket visit as if it was yesterday. 

“Can I help?”

The cashier paused, and she and I turned to the 40-ish woman in line behind me.

“Can I help?" she repeated.  "With some money?  If you’re short?”

For once, I did have enough.  I'd picked up an unmarked pack of tamales and asked the cashier the price.  When she told me I said, "No, thanks"; not because I didn't have the cash but because tamales shouldn't cost so much.  And that was when the woman first spoke.

“No, thank you very much,” I replied, trying not to take notice of the number of strangers who suddenly expressed an interest in this random act of kindness.

“I hope you’re not offended,” (I wasn’t), “but a couple weeks ago I ran into an elderly woman who asked my opinion about the nutritional value of cat food.  We looked at several brands on the shelves, and I finally asked how many cats she owned.

“'None,' she sheepishly replied; it was for her.  I bundled her up and took her for some real grocery shopping, and ever since, I’ve been on the lookout.”

I held back tears; from empathy, certainly, but also acknowledging my perceived appearance.  I looked like I felt.  But her story - how can that be...in this country?  Will I be shopping in the pet food section one day, too?  Hope returned in the form of this stranger who was wanting to help.

“I figure we’re all in this together,” my Good Samaritan continued and I agreed, while surreptitiously presenting my Food Stamp card to the cashier.  Out of embarassment, I always tried to pull it out of my wallet with the silver strip showing; it could be an old American Express card, I hoped people might think.  It’s green, too.

“And we should help one another,” she added.

“I’m trying not to cry,” I began, “because that’s exactly how I feel, but I was beginning to wonder if anyone else did.  You have no idea how good you’ve made me feel, thank you again.”

The cart seemed a bit lighter as I pushed it towards my old pick-up where BC waited, wagging her Rapunzel-like tail, always happy to see me again.  Thank God for our pets.  END

My 13-year blog is full of examples of good deed-doers appearing at opportune moments.  Plenty of times I didn't think I could keep going, but you do.  I remain on the lookout, and Southern Californians need our help now...they're not all moguls and movie stars.

* Fictional character from John Steinbeck's, The Grapes of Wrath.