A late-night run to Walmart for pantyhose and hairpins. At the only register open, the line grew longer as the some disturbance blocked progress at the front. A woman explains the details of her credit card story to ears that know only the functions of the machines, and cannot help the situation, whether or not they know the hows or whys. She is left with no options, locked out of her credit card due to pointless mistakes and abstract reasons having to do with number symbols communicating through computers in unknown realms completely disconnected from the humans standing in line. She leaves upset, leaving the clerk upset, and without the items she lamented that needed the most. In the parking lot I had a strange vision of her yelling in the car, driving dangerously, and facing whatever situation at home had such desperate need of those unpaid for items. I asked her if she had any cash at all. She thought I was asking her to give it to me and exclaimed, "Are you SERIOUS!?" "No, no- I just mean- I have $12, so if you have about $3, we could make up the difference." She understood that I meant to give it to her and the situation changed entirely. She was so relieved, so surprised. It seemed to me that a little warmth entered the world. She insisted on taking down my number so she could pay me back. For 11 dollars, a person can restore a small spark of belief in humanity. In a conversation on the topic of the oldest question of humanity: "are we good or are we evil," my answer was: "Right now, we are hurting." To not feel abandoned and accused by every fellow human may offer a minute salve for that wound.
Ubuntu: "I am what I am because of who we all are."
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