A Grocery Store Parable
Jan 03, 2024 • Category: Life
by JK
When I was about 25 years old, I drove up to the grocery store in my neighborhood. It was an old type of grocery store, much smaller than a modern supermarket, but it had character, and it was close. As I was going in, there was a young man sitting in the shade on the sidewalk near the entrance. He had no legs. He had placed in front of him a few things he was trying to sell, and he asked me, “Sir, would you like to buy a pencil”?
In that split second, before I responded with an automatic "no," I realized that I knew this man. About fifteen years earlier, when my Sunday School class went on a field trip, this boy had shown up on the bus. I guess he was someone's nephew or friend. I didn’t talk to him that day either. It’s not often that you cross paths with someone with no legs, he looked the same as the kid on the bus, but his lack of legs was a dead giveaway. This young man, was roughly my own age. I went on in the store, made my purchase, and quickly escaped back to my car.
Here’s my point: Had I not been so afraid, had I stopped for two seconds and gave some consideration to someone besides myself, I could have made a difference. I can’t say for sure, but most certainly a 25 year-old legless man has had a rough life. He was selling pencils on the sidewalk. Meanwhile, here I was, able-bodied, married with kids, a home, a job, a car, and enough to afford a grocery run. The perceived contrast was stark.
What I should have done was stop, and kneel down to eye level and say “What all have you got there?” I could have bought a couple of pencils and a notepad, or whatever he had. I could have brought him a Dr. Pepper on my way out. I could have asked him his name.
If only I'd known in advance, I could have composed myself and made a difference in someone's life, even if just for a few minutes. In the grand scheme of things, it would have made a difference in my life too. If only I had known. Or maybe I would have parked on the other side of the store and entered from there. I don't know.
Compare this with a similar situation ten years later. I’m going into a different grocery store with my 10-year old son (who has his own challenges) and standing by the entrance is a kid about his age. My son stops, and sticks out his hand and introduces himself. I’m so proud of him and so ashamed of myself.
Carrying these memories with me in my old age, I'm determined to be more courageous, set aside my fears and make a difference. I'm giving myself some advanced warning right now. Opportunities will arise, and I want to be ready. I don't know how, where, or when, but I'm deciding in advance to be a difference-maker.
When I was about 25 years old, I drove up to the grocery store in my neighborhood. It was an old type of grocery store, much smaller than a modern supermarket, but it had character, and it was close. As I was going in, there was a young man sitting in the shade on the sidewalk near the entrance. He had no legs. He had placed in front of him a few things he was trying to sell, and he asked me, “Sir, would you like to buy a pencil”?
In that split second, before I responded with an automatic "no," I realized that I knew this man. About fifteen years earlier, when my Sunday School class went on a field trip, this boy had shown up on the bus. I guess he was someone's nephew or friend. I didn’t talk to him that day either. It’s not often that you cross paths with someone with no legs, he looked the same as the kid on the bus, but his lack of legs was a dead giveaway. This young man, was roughly my own age. I went on in the store, made my purchase, and quickly escaped back to my car.
Here’s my point: Had I not been so afraid, had I stopped for two seconds and gave some consideration to someone besides myself, I could have made a difference. I can’t say for sure, but most certainly a 25 year-old legless man has had a rough life. He was selling pencils on the sidewalk. Meanwhile, here I was, able-bodied, married with kids, a home, a job, a car, and enough to afford a grocery run. The perceived contrast was stark.
What I should have done was stop, and kneel down to eye level and say “What all have you got there?” I could have bought a couple of pencils and a notepad, or whatever he had. I could have brought him a Dr. Pepper on my way out. I could have asked him his name.
If only I'd known in advance, I could have composed myself and made a difference in someone's life, even if just for a few minutes. In the grand scheme of things, it would have made a difference in my life too. If only I had known. Or maybe I would have parked on the other side of the store and entered from there. I don't know.
Compare this with a similar situation ten years later. I’m going into a different grocery store with my 10-year old son (who has his own challenges) and standing by the entrance is a kid about his age. My son stops, and sticks out his hand and introduces himself. I’m so proud of him and so ashamed of myself.
Carrying these memories with me in my old age, I'm determined to be more courageous, set aside my fears and make a difference. I'm giving myself some advanced warning right now. Opportunities will arise, and I want to be ready. I don't know how, where, or when, but I'm deciding in advance to be a difference-maker.