Have you ever run into the grocery store for a small something—a couple of apples, or a carton of ice cream, or a bag of coffee beans—and found yourself stuck in the checkout line behind a shopper with an overflowing grocery cart? You’re already counting how many items this person has and being judgy. (Do they really need all those boxes of cookies? Are they shopping for a restaurant, or maybe for ten million kids?) And you’re thinking if you had just gotten here a few seconds earlier, you might have gotten to the checkout first. You’re cursing yourself for having stopped to say hi and how are you to your neighbor who was just leaving as you entered the store. Why did you do that?
Then the shopper in front of you says, “That’s all you have? Just the one item?”
You nod.
“You can get in front of me,” the shopper says. “Otherwise you’ll be here all day.”
And this, such a tiny gesture, makes your morning—it might even make your day. You thank them, but you know it’s for more than the fact that you will get out of the store ten minutes earlier than you thought you would. This person saw you. And considered you.
Which leads me to this beauty of a poem by one of my favorite poets: Danusha Laméris.
This poem is posted here with permission from the poet. The title of this blog is the title of the poem. You can learn more about Danusha Laméris here. The poem appears in her book, Bonfire Opera.
A big thank you to Danusha Laméris for allowing me to share this poem.
It’s National Poetry Month, y’all! Every week during the month of April, I will be sharing poems I love from contemporary writers. I hope to pique your interest in poetry, if it needs to be piqued, and to show you that a really great poem can be accessible to all.
Also, notice the small kindnesses in your world—and if you can, offer some yourself.
Photo credit: Sreenadh TC from Unsplash.com