August 12

After a slow, lazy morning at home, I took the kiddos out for Target Treat Tuesday. (It's a thing for us.) After I picked up the handful of items on my list, I stopped at the cafe to get Icees, and then headed over to the Starbucks to get myself a vanilla iced coffee (my flavor of late). As we sat at our table, the kids chattered amongst themselves and I half-listened as I sipped my drink and stared out the window. After a minute or so, my eyes focused on an older gentleman sitting alone in the corner, slowly nursing an iced coffee of his own.

(Stealth pic.)

I had the distinct feeling that I should go and talk to this man. Initially, I resisted the feeling, but it persisted. I asked God to tell me what to say, and the words our pastor had spoken during a recent sermon came back to me: to paraphrase, be open to doing God's work to touch someone else's life and God will turn your efforts into something special.

So I got up, walked over, and said hi. He smiled a big, almost surprised smile and said hello. And we chatted. Without me prompting him at all, he said --several times-- that he's just happy because he's alive. His health isn't perfect --in fact, he had a big gauze cap on because he recently had cancer removed from the top of his head-- but he lives joyfully and considers every day a blessing. He told me about his wife (who was off shopping in the store while he people-watched) and his kids and how he'd lived in nine states over his 87 years.

When the kids had finished their drinks, I told him that I needed to get moving, and he again smiled. And he told me that he'd very much enjoyed the conversation. And he thanked me --very genuinely-- for stopping to say hello.

I don't know if he got a lot out of our interaction, but I did, because his joy was contagious. And I'm very grateful that Richard and I crossed paths, if only for a few minutes.