Thursday, October 29, 2015
She came flying around the corner, and nearly knocked me over. Probably six years old. Filthy shirt, cable knit tights, crazy hair, a conspicuous absence of pants, and clutching a huge candy bar. She was followed by her brother and mother. Brother had hair standing in every direction, a filthy tee, a fresh cast, a huge candy bar, and a soda for good measure. Mom just looked exhausted and spent. She caught my eye, and looked ready for judgement. Pretty sure I would have been Judgey McJudge at some point in the past, either about the sugar surplus or lack of pants or something.
Instead, all I could do was pick up the candy bars that had toppled over in our near collision and talk to the little girl about how much I liked the candy bar she had picked. I smiled at Mom and went to check out my water and pay for my gas.
I should have also said, "It's gonna be a doozy of a story about the day that ended with no pants and a new cast. But right now, you should get yourself a candy bar and soda because you rock."
We all get so judgey about other people. Their parenting. Their lack of parenting. Their nutrition. Their political beliefs. Their religious beliefs. Everything. We get so judgey about everything that people do differently than us, never knowing what might be happening. That mom caught my eye with the expectation that some sort of judgement, silent or spoken, was coming her way.
The Great Candy Bar Collision was a reminder that we are all usually trying our best. Or at least trying. Some days, simply showing up and trying is enough. No judgement here, love. Just what should have been a hug and a spoken, "Solidarity, Sister. Eat the candy bar."
Peace and love and pants and chocolate, buttercups. XOXO
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