The Story Behind The Person

He is a living Eeyore.
That is the way I categorized him.
I always said hello to him as he did the odd jobs around the grocery store.
He always said hello back.

He moves very slow.
There is no apparent physical reason he moves slow.
That just seems to be his way.
Everything he does is at a snail’s pace.

I say that with respect.
His pace does not match his height.
He is a tall man.
He just seems to go through life at a different speed.

He talks to me from time to time.
He will come and take my cart from me so I don’t have to walk back to the coral.
He makes sure there are plastic grocery bags at each register.
He makes sure the trash cans are emptied.

Even his voice is like Eeyore.
Since I love Winnie the Pooh and all of his friends, his Eeyore qualities make me smile.
I often wondered about him.
It was never something I could ask, since it would be prying into his life.

I often get an Eeyore-like hello on most of my shopping trips.
There was the one day he wanted to talk about the schools that were listed on my back window.
I heard about his plans and his own dreams of going to school.
Something changed those plans; college was not something he ever did.

He wanted to own a restaurant.
He said he likes to cook.
I remember the day I told him it is never too late to make those dreams come true.
I knew he didn’t believe me.

I never brought it up again.
There seemed to be pain in his eyes at the memory.
I often wondered if he cooks for himself.
I often wondered if there was someone at home waiting for him.

There are subjects that are not discussed.
There are questions that are not asked.
He was always a mystery to me.
I just resolved that I would never know his story and that was fine with me.

The sun was bright on the day after the snowfall.
The weather was warm; the sound of melting snow dripping from gutters was everywhere.
I reached my car and opened the door to get my sunglasses.
I went to the back of my car to load the groceries in the back.

As I turned to return my shopping cart, I saw him.
His slow movements gave him away.
His height made him impossible to miss.
How are you today? He asked me.

I’m fine, I said, How are you?
Better today, he informed me.
Were you sick? I asked, entering the world I had not entered before.
No, just depressed, he admitted.

A pang of guilt hit my heart.
This man, who I categorized as Eeyore in my mind, suffered from depression.
My Eeyore description was never meant to put him down.
It was simply the truth as I saw it.

I was a party-er, he confessed.
I did lots of stuff I should not have done, as he told me some of those choices.
It messed me up big time.
I’ve been sober for 27 years now, he said proudly.

I stood in the shopping cart coral and clapped.
I am so proud of you, I told him.
That is so wonderful, I went on.
The man, who used to be Eeyore, stood on the other side of the coral.

You stay safe today, he told me.
You always got a smile on your face, he added.
Well, thank you, I said a bit embarrassed.
Keep looking up, I added, which sounded more cliche than I meant it to sound.

God has you and He’s always there, I reminded him.
Yeah, he said but I had no idea if he really heard me.
Stay safe, he said again.
I got back in my car.

When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them. When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.” Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.” “Tell me, teacher,” he said. “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.” “You have judged correctly,” Jesus said. Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.” Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” (Luke 7:38-50)

Before I started my car, I thought of the sinful woman who anointed Jesus’ feet.
Jesus was at the home of Simon, the Pharisee.
Jewish custom demanded hospitality.
Washing the dusty feet of your guests was expected.

Simon never washed Jesus’ feet when He entered his home.
However, the sinful woman, as she is described, washed Jesus’ feet with her tears.
She dried them with her hair.
It was scandalous for a woman to let down her hair in public.

I was convicted by this story.
Jesus’ question cut to my heart.
Simon, do you see this woman?
Simon did not see the woman; Simon only saw her category: sinner.

I felt like I was being asked the same question.
Do you see this man?
Up to this day, I only saw the man I called, Eeyore, in my mind.
It was a category that was meant lovingly, but it was a category nonetheless.

We never know another person’s story.
We never know the pain they carry in their heart.
I thought of one of my favorite Eeyore quotes.
Thanks for noticin’ me.

Lesson learned.

 

2 responses to “The Story Behind The Person”

1. Beautiful

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   • Thank you, friend!
     I hope this touches hearts as it touched mine.
     Gina

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