Pleasantries. Day in and day out.
“Hello. How are you? Supposed to warm up next week. You take care now. Have a good day!”
Except . . .
My customers must know me by now. Many of them are not “just fine,” are not having a good day . . . and they tell me so. As if baring their soul doesn’t make them feel vulnerable. Or maybe they’re just that starved for someone to talk to, someone to sympathize.
Necessity breeds trust when you least expect it: one customer asked a favor the third time I ever stepped in her house. She has since asked many more. And I wonder, why me? Why didn’t God send her someone who could truly help her?
Needs. Day in and day out.
Everyone needs money. A caregiver. A better place to live. A healthy body. A little bit of hope.
I’m just a delivery girl. I’m surrounded by needs I can’t meet, and it makes me want to run away. I don’t want to know their problems because there’s nothing I can do, and maybe somehow not knowing would make me feel less guilty.
Except . . .
The way some of them smile when they see me . . .
Talk for 10 or 15 or 30 minutes about whatever’s on their mind, whatever’s going on in their life . . .
Hug me as I’m leaving . . .
Maybe it’s enough not to run from caring, but to show that I care.
To smile, to listen, to pray for them.
To offer pleasantness. Day in and day out.