I tend to talk to people in the grocery store. Sometimes a person in the checkout line is someone who likes to talk also. The other day, a man said to me, “Oh, I’m sorry,” as I was loading my items onto the moving counter and I, surprised, said, “Why are you sorry?

“Well, I was waiting for the divider so that you would have your groceries separated from mine,” he replied. “I like to do that. It’s just a small thing, but kindness … ” and his voice trailed off. Now many people move the divider while checking out, but to this shy-looking man, it seemed to be an act of particular purpose.

“Yes, kindness is so important now,” I said, as if it hadn’t always been so. And then we had a short political conversation about the state of the world, especially ours, which we both agreed needed a lot more kindness.

When the cashier finished his transaction and the man lifted his groceries off the counter, he nodded and with much sincerity wished me “a very good day.” I offered the same wish back to him. As I left the store, my mood was lighter than when I had arrived.

Later, thinking of that stranger and our very brief encounter, I realized how profound clichés can be.

“Little acts of kindness” make a difference between human beings. I can attest to that. I’ll bet most of us can.

Judith Johnson
Monmouth