Happy Soul

I’m screaming at the sky right now on account of I wanted an easy night to sit back and watch a movie after dinner, but I have a story about something I have been thinking about a lot lately.

Years ago in my mid 20s, probably 24 or 25, I walked into a gas station across town to buy cigarettes and beer, a normal night then, something to dull my mind and wash away the pain. I walk up to the counter as one does, place my things on it, and look up at the attendant. She was my mother’s age, staring down at the counter as she swiped the bar codes and wrang me up. She looked up at me afterwards, and to this day I don’t know that I have seen a sadder person, not the I had a bad customer sad, the kind of sad you see when someone’s mother or father dies. Heavy eyes, and that little frown of someone holding it together through a shift at work when they have a thousand other thoughts tearing through their brain.

As I grabbed my items and began making my way to the door she spoke softly, she told me to have a good night, and when she did, I turned. I told her to have a good night as well; her face is still burnt into my memories. It lit up in that moment, her eyes grew a little wider, I swear I felt the entire room grow warmer, happier, as if that one small gesture made her whole day.

I never did find out why she was so down that day, I have seen her since, at the tavern once or twice, I rarely go to that particular gas station but these days she is always friendly and happy. I think about that single moment often, how a small gesture can make someone’s day better, how happy it can make them even if it is for a brief time.

Today after work around 4pm I skipped the gas station I would normally go to because I wanted a particular drink, they have more flavors at the one across town and I thought I would sit back and have the one I like tonight. I walked in to hear the same friendly hello, from that familiar voice I hear every time she is working there, in the back stocking shelves when its slow. Staring at the drinks for a moment I grabbed a cherry slush can and made my way to the counter to pay and grab a pack of smokes. The same lady walks behind the counter and begins checking me out.

I see her hesitate for a moment as she puts the cigarettes into a small black plastic bag, along with the drink, she asks if she can have one. This might seem weird, but it’s a small town. We start talking as I shove my card into the reader and punch in the numbers; she is trying to quit and tells me she doesn’t want to open another pack, pawing at her hands, almost like she’s embarrassed to ask, but I understand.

One of the hardest parts of quitting is opening a new pack and having twenty more chances to say no, I’ve tried plenty of times. She had that same warm look in her face, not one of an addict trying to bum a smoke, one of a mother that’s having a hard time with something, an honest appreciation of something as simple as a single cigarette to get her by for a few more hours.

I don’t know her name, where she’s from, what she has been through, whether she is going to end up quitting or not. What I do know is it feels really good to help people, a comment that lifts their spirit, shoveling your neighbor’s driveway, helping someone put a spare tire on, opening a door for someone using a walker, it all fills your soul. Life is a lot, it’s those small moments where you decide to give someone a little bit of your time, your kindness, that makes us human, it makes us good people. You can’t save the world, but you can make it a little less miserable for the ones around you, even if they’re strangers.