On my flist today, someone asked her friends to tell stories that are redeeming of the human race. And I admit, there are plenty of times when people piss me off so badly that I just wish an asteroid would hit and wipe the slate clean because the human race has become a slovenly mass of epic fail.
But there are good people. There are stories that remind us of that. Here's the one I shared with her:
Ten years ago this week, a couple of months before I left for the Army, I was working as the manager of a small candle store in New Hampshire. It was the holiday season, my store was right next to the mall Santa Claus, the Christmas music was loud and obnoxious, and people had been assholes all day.
Then I got this one customer... a little girl, maybe eight years old, shopping with her brother, who was maybe nine. She wanted to buy a candle for her mother, which is why her mother had let them go do this errand themselves while she waited nearby. She had seven dollars, and you could tell that she had saved the money herself. The bills were rumpled and crumpled, the way a kid's money is.
She seemed so sweet and sincere, and I wanted to make sure she got a good candle for her money - something her mother would like, and that she'd be proud to give as a gift. I took the time to show her all the different candles she could afford. She asked me what MY favorite candles were, and I showed her the aromatherapy votives, and showed her my favorite scents. At a dollar each, she could make her mother a set of up to seven. In the end, she settled on this $5 glow-globe candle that lights up from the inside when the wick is lit, making the design glow. I even told her that she can keep using the shell with a tea light, so her mother could keep enjoying it even after it burns down.
I gift-boxed it for free (we were supposed to charge 50 cents for gift boxes), and made sure to thank her for shopping there. She was so mature and proud of herself, buying a Christmas gift for her mom, that I wanted to make sure she was treated with the respect that any customer would deserve, whether spending $5 or $100. She seemed thrilled, and with her box in hand, she hurried off to meet her mother. I watched her go, feeling a little bit better about my job and humanity in general. Sweet kid.
About twenty minutes later, she came back and said that she decided she wanted to get two of the aromatherapy votives, too. I thought it was adorable, and that maybe she wanted to get stocking stuffers. She picked the two scents that I'd said were my favorites, and I wrapped them and gift-boxed them. She handed me her last $2... those little rumpled bills... and I rang up the purchase and put the money in the register.
I went to hand her the receipt and the box, but she quickly tucked her hands behind her back, and said, "Those are for you."
Before I could say anything, she ran off into the mall, leaving me standing there, holding a box with two little candles inside, and tears streaming down my face.
That kid is probably somewhere starting college. Maybe she's out there, volunteering at a food pantry, an animal shelter, or writing letters to elected officials. Who knows, but that afternoon, she reminded me that selfless people still exist.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
But there are good people. There are stories that remind us of that. Here's the one I shared with her:
Ten years ago this week, a couple of months before I left for the Army, I was working as the manager of a small candle store in New Hampshire. It was the holiday season, my store was right next to the mall Santa Claus, the Christmas music was loud and obnoxious, and people had been assholes all day.
Then I got this one customer... a little girl, maybe eight years old, shopping with her brother, who was maybe nine. She wanted to buy a candle for her mother, which is why her mother had let them go do this errand themselves while she waited nearby. She had seven dollars, and you could tell that she had saved the money herself. The bills were rumpled and crumpled, the way a kid's money is.
She seemed so sweet and sincere, and I wanted to make sure she got a good candle for her money - something her mother would like, and that she'd be proud to give as a gift. I took the time to show her all the different candles she could afford. She asked me what MY favorite candles were, and I showed her the aromatherapy votives, and showed her my favorite scents. At a dollar each, she could make her mother a set of up to seven. In the end, she settled on this $5 glow-globe candle that lights up from the inside when the wick is lit, making the design glow. I even told her that she can keep using the shell with a tea light, so her mother could keep enjoying it even after it burns down.
I gift-boxed it for free (we were supposed to charge 50 cents for gift boxes), and made sure to thank her for shopping there. She was so mature and proud of herself, buying a Christmas gift for her mom, that I wanted to make sure she was treated with the respect that any customer would deserve, whether spending $5 or $100. She seemed thrilled, and with her box in hand, she hurried off to meet her mother. I watched her go, feeling a little bit better about my job and humanity in general. Sweet kid.
About twenty minutes later, she came back and said that she decided she wanted to get two of the aromatherapy votives, too. I thought it was adorable, and that maybe she wanted to get stocking stuffers. She picked the two scents that I'd said were my favorites, and I wrapped them and gift-boxed them. She handed me her last $2... those little rumpled bills... and I rang up the purchase and put the money in the register.
I went to hand her the receipt and the box, but she quickly tucked her hands behind her back, and said, "Those are for you."
Before I could say anything, she ran off into the mall, leaving me standing there, holding a box with two little candles inside, and tears streaming down my face.
That kid is probably somewhere starting college. Maybe she's out there, volunteering at a food pantry, an animal shelter, or writing letters to elected officials. Who knows, but that afternoon, she reminded me that selfless people still exist.
I still have those candles.