Helping the Little People
OK, I'm the little person in this story. I'm tall enough for me. I'm five feet tall and my feet touch the ground, so I'm tall enough. I have long admired tall people. When I was a child, my best friend, Nancy Pearl, was my same age but was always head and shoulders taller than I. I thought she was great. But I learned to accept who I am. It takes less fabric to make me a dress, it's less for me to iron, I can stand in front of anyone at a parade and they can see over me, --those kinds of things.
I was at the grocery store looking over the choices for ice cream. The one I really wanted to try, Hagen's mint chocolate chip, was on the top shelf. I may have been able to reach it, but it looked really high to me. I thought about making the effort, but there was a gentleman standing there beside me, also making a choice. So I asked for help. "I think I may have trouble reaching the ice cream I want to try, would you hand it down to me?" He was admirably tall. His head was way up there on a level with that top ice cream shelf. It was no problem for him to hand me the ice cream.
I'm used to asking tall people to help me reach something in grocery stores and they always are happy to help, but this man seemed even more than happy to help. He made me feel like I'd done him an honor to ask him for the help. He wasn't gushy or anything, but it showed in his eagerness to help, his smile that included his eyes and the way he said, "I'd be glad to." He seemed pleased that I'd asked him for the help and I left the store feeling pleased that I had asked for help.
The ice cream, by the way, tastes great!
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