Elizabeth. I know very little about her personally. I know she
likes to collect what some might consider junk and make it into
something beautiful. I know she has a grandchild that lives many states
away.
I would guess she's in her late fifties
or early sixties, but her sparkly blue eyes could convince you that
she's no more than sixteen. She's one of those people that
you know has seen a lot of life. She has long thick blond hair that is
always held together in a parade of ponytails. She has a a scar above
her lip and walks with a slight limp. I found the latter out after
several months of knowing her.
Elizabeth works behind the Cafe
on the Go check-out counter at HEB. I visit two to three times each
week. Now, I love the salad bar at HEB and a Sweet Leaf Tea on the go.
But, honest? I go to see Elizabeth.
She knows
about the odds and ends of my life. Anything beyond my routine salad
and Sweet Leaf purchase and Elizabeth will get to the bottom of it. She
often knows what we'll be having for dinner that night, if one of us is
sick, when it's my grandmother's birthday and even when I'm having a
chocolate craving. I suppose you can learn a lot about a person by what
they pick up at the grocery store. It's odd to think about someone
knowing so many little things about you and not even knowing their last
name.
But it's Elizabeth, so it's okay.
We
usually talk about the upcoming weather, how it's tough that it's a
Monday or how great that we've almost made it to the weekend. When the
big stuff happens in life I want to tell her. But then I remember that
she doesn't know any of the big stuff.
It was
mid-morning and I wasn't in work clothes. I came to her counter with a
strawberry ricotta muffin and poured a cup of coffee. When it came to be my turn to check-out,
Elizabeth sized me up with my out-of-routine time and
out-of-the-ordinary muffin and coffee. She rang it up and smiled quietly
saying "That will be a $1.50 for the muffin." I asked, "Did you add the
coffee?" "Nope, you've never had coffee before." She said this with her
blue eyes twinkling that told me to just go with it and she began to
check-out the next person in line.
Elizabeth knew this day was very different. It
was more than Muffin-and-Coffee-Out-of-the-Ordinary and probably one of
the saddest and toughest days of my life up to this point. Somehow free
coffee from Elizabeth made it better.
Maybe
it was random kindness or maybe she saw something in my eye that was different too. Maybe free coffee was the Band-Aid that
Elizabeth had to give.
I don't need to tell Elizabeth the big stuff. Somehow she just knows.
I
did learn something else about my friend that day. The line at the cafe that morning was quite long. No one went around the corner to the twenty available check-out lines.
I'm not the only that comes to see Elizabeth.
