Observing the World from My Car,
In a Meijer Parking Lot

One cold, dreary, November morning, I dragged myself out of bed, bumbled around the house. Once I’d found my winter coat and searched for my car keys, my boyfriend and I got into the car, and I drove him to work. When we exited the highway, he mentioned that he needed to stop and pick up something for lunch. A few blocks later, I turned into a Meijer parking lot, positioned my car in front of the store, and attempted to stay awake, while my boyfriend went inside. I observed an older, thin, white woman, who wore a blue and white sweat suit and tennis shoes, walk what seemed to be an extensive distance from her car to the sidewalk to leave her cart. I wondered why she had traveled so far to desert the cart in a place it didn’t belong, because the cart station was only a few feet away from her vehicle and she’d looked as if she were in great shape—or at least good enough shape to place the cart in its rightful area.
No more than two minutes later, I noticed an even older, heavier woman, with curly white hair, walking, slowly—her steps assisted by a tall, twisted, wooden cane. Her eyes were half opened, lips curled into a frown, though she’d just begun her journey from the car to the entrance of the store. She struggled to hold her cane in one hand and a large, brown pocketbook in the other, while keeping her balance in the cold, rough wind. Her eyes smiled as they latched onto the abandoned cart a few feet in front of her. Relieved once she’d reached it, the old woman leaned forward, rested her weight on the shopping cart, and moved with ease. I imagine she thanked God for that blessing that others might have taken for granted.
Unknowingly, I smiled. Once I realized I was smiling, I looked around to see if anyone had seen me watching the woman, and pretended to straighten my hair. I continued looking at the woman, through my rearview mirror, until she’d disappeared into the store. I searched the parking lot for another lesson, but wasn’t successful.
There I was casting judgment on the first woman: thinking she was simply being lazy and careless; especially since the wind could have easily blown the stray cart through the parking lot, and could have potentially rolled in front of someone’s moving vehicle. Although, I may have been right in my judgment, her carelessness aided someone else in a time of need. There was a greater plan in progress: one that I couldn’t fathom, until I witnessed it unfold.
My boyfriend grabbed the handle to the car door and opened it. When he got in and closed the door, I drove across the parking lot, away from the store. I had to maneuver around a shopping cart that rested in the path of my car. “Some people are such idiots” my boyfriend stated in a frustrated tone. “Whoever left that there could have easily pushed it out of the way, and been a little considerate of other people.” I smiled: realized that just moments ago, I would have agreed with him and been frustrated as well.