TELL THE LADY WITH LYMPHOMA WHAT YOU LAST BICKERED ABOUT

By Danelle Carvell

    As I pushed my cart through the grocery store today, I took extra notice to the people that passed by.  I wondered what their lives were like.  What problems they were agonizing over and what joys filled their days.  It struck me funny that I could pass so close to a human soul and know nothing about that person.

    Grocery store shoppers usually don’t make eye contact. They just scan the shelves as they push their carts past each other.  What is there to say really?  Every now and then someone will ask if I’ve tried a certain product.  Or they’ll ask if I know where they moved the salad dressing or some other elusive item.  “Yeah, they’re always moving things,” I say.

     When I get to the check out, I usually stand there in silence while the lady scans my groceries.  Every now and then I’ll start a conversation or she’ll start chatting.  We talk about the weather, or how busy the store is,  things like that.  Sometimes the younger girls will tell me personal things about their lives as if they’ve known me forever.  That always fascinates me, but I don’t mind.  It’s better than standing there in silence.

     After piling my groceries in the trunk, I headed to Rite Aid to pick up a birthday card. Surprisingly, the first one I read was perfect.  The only thing I didn’t like was the price.  I never paid five dollars for a card before.  As I mentioned this to the cashier, a lady appeared to my right and immediately began talking about her “diagnosis.”  The cashier listened intently as she handed me my change.  They were obviously friends, and I felt like an intruder standing between them during such a personal conversation.

     I heard the word “lymphoma” and that she needed more tests.  Within a few sentences I knew the woman beside me had cancer. Unlike the people I passed in the grocery store, I knew something about this stranger and it wasn’t pleasant.  For a moment I wanted to say something hopeful, but I didn’t.  I grabbed my purchase, put my wallet in my handbag, and headed for the door.  Then my mind flashed an image of me putting my hand on her shoulder as I passed by, to show some kind of support, some kind of encouragement.  But she was a stranger and it just didn’t feel comfortable.

    When I stepped outside, I breathed in slowly, closed my eyes and exhaled the thought: “God, don’t ever let that be me.”  The worst part of my day so far had been paying five dollars for a card. Suddenly it wasn’t a big deal.  All I could feel was grateful... grateful for my health and the health of my family, and grateful that I had the five dollars to buy a card.

     I started my car and headed home. As I drove I thought about the fuss people make over ridiculous things that they perceive as irritating. All that negative energy that causes even more agony for the people around them. Why can’t people just relax and enjoy their lives if they’re healthy and have good things going for them? 

     Everything we fuss about has a point at which we could choose to be grateful if we’d only decide to embrace our blessings. I hate waiting in lines, but while I stand in line waiting, I could be grateful that I have two healthy legs to stand on. I could think about that boy in my high school class who trudged through the hall on crutches, yet managed to carry his books with no help. 

     Our world is so filled with conflict right now. We shouldn’t be contributing to it with unnecessary bickering. God is looking for people with grateful hearts. He’s looking for peacemakers that he can promote to do the work our country needs to heal.  The brawlers, grumblers and complainers will be left behind with their regrets, trying to catch up to those God is blessing for their peaceful, grateful hearts.