Every time I take my children to the grocery store, I come home with a week’s worth of groceries and a multitude of regrets. I often find myself pondering why I didn’t opt for online shopping instead.
Last week, I decided to take my kids shopping right after picking up my 3-year-old, Mia, from preschool. With just 80 minutes before lunch, it seemed like a manageable plan. I arrived a few minutes early, and when Mia spotted me, she exclaimed, “I didn’t expect you!” Not the best start, but we proceeded to the car. However, she suddenly took off running.
“Mia, please get in the car,” I called out. Instead, she jumped into a pile of leaves.
“We don’t have time for this. Get in the car now,” I insisted. She burrowed deeper into the leaves, so I picked her up, struggling as she wriggled against me. Frustration brewed within. Just breathe, I reminded myself. As I was fastening her into her car seat, she suddenly hit my arm.
Deep breathing could wait. “We don’t hit,” I said firmly, my irritation rising.
We didn’t have time for a time-out, but that’s what I enforced anyway. I guided her to a bucket in the garage, where she faced the wall for three minutes. I watched from the car as a podcast about happiness played in the background. Ah, irony. When I finally buckled her back in, she apologized, but I was already worn out before even reaching the store.
Upon arrival, the parking lot was packed. After several loops, I squeezed into a spot, unbuckled the girls, and hurried towards the store, balancing my 17-month-old and holding Mia’s hand. “They have the race-car cart!” Mia exclaimed excitedly as we approached. Unfortunately, the cart was drenched from the morning rain. I feigned disappointment, “Oh no, it’s wet! Let’s find another one.”
By the time we entered the supermarket, my arm ached from carrying the baby. I set her down to search for a dry cart, only to find an unhelpful, tiny one. To my horror, I turned around and saw the baby heading straight for a display of drinks. I scooped her up, told Mia to stay put, rushed outside, grabbed the race-car cart, and with all my might, pushed it up the ramp.
Inside the store, with a wet cart and two kids, I set the baby down and told Mia to hold her sister’s hand. Sprinting in search of a towel, I glanced back to see the baby lunging for another drink display. I grabbed a box of tissues from the service desk and hastened back just in time to avert a Gatorade disaster.
With the baby in one arm and tissues in the other, I tilted the cart to drip some water off. In theory, it should have worked. In reality, I created a puddle. I hastily placed newspapers over the wet spot and contemplated my options. With only one hand free and lunchtime rapidly approaching, I considered abandoning the shopping trip altogether.
Then, an unexpected angel appeared. She had curly black hair, glasses, and was holding a loaf of bread. “Can I help you?” she asked, and I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me.
“Um, yes…” I stammered.
“What can I do?” she inquired, concern reflected in her eyes. Just then, a staff member appeared with a roll of paper towels. He handed them to my angel, who promptly started wiping the cart. I stood there, feeling somewhat foolish, holding the baby and Mia’s hand while they cleaned.
“You are so patient,” she cooed to my children. “I’m a mommy too, so I understand how hard it can be for kids to wait.” We shared a knowing smile; she recognized not just the chaos but also the exhaustion of a mother.
Her simple act of kindness became a significant reminder. Despite the chaos of the grocery store—children pleading for snacks, the struggle to maneuver the cart—it reminded me that I had a reason for going out. If I had stayed home, I wouldn’t have encountered this moment of compassion.
To that kind mother in the store, thank you for being an angel in disguise.
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Summary
In the midst of a chaotic grocery shopping trip with two children, a tired mother encounters an angelic stranger who offers assistance and empathy, reminding her of the beauty in small acts of kindness. This experience highlights the importance of community and support in the challenging journey of parenthood.