It was later in the afternoon and a gentleman hobbled up to the counter. He slowly unloaded seven cans of cat food onto the counter from his cart. Then he grabbed a twenty pound bag of crunchy cat food from his cart and nearly struggled to get it onto the counter.
"This all for you?" I asked the man once I have finished entering it all into the computer.
"Yes," His voice came in a quite, gentle tone that displayed many years of experience and wisdom.
"Ok, that'll be $12.67." Came my response as I fumbled to pry the bag from the grocery bag holder.
"$0.60?" He sought clarification.
"$12.67, sir." I projected my voice louder, realizing he was struggling to hear me.
"Okay." He slowly reached into his right back pocket with his right arm, retrieved his wallet, and then laid twelve dollars and sixty-seven cents in change on the counter.
I put the money into the drawer and he put his bagged items into the cart.
"Have a good day!" I quoted the regular line as I watched him slowly put a glove onto his left hand. That's when I noticed that his left arm had yet to move from his side. It just remained there in a right angle, pressed against his stomach. Even when he put his glove on, the arm remained still.
I thought about asking the man if he needed help getting his things out to his car, but I was forbidden from leaving the register and I was the only "employee" in the store. Most customers that would like assistance ask for it at the counter, but this man never said a word.
He put the twenty pound bag into his cart, balancing it on his left arm, which still remained at his side, and securing it with his right. And then he walked slowly out of the store.
A few more customers came into the store and left with various pet stocking stuffers. About ten minutes went by and then I saw the same gentleman walking slowly up to the store. "
Oh no, he must want to return something," I thought. But he had nothing in his hands.
He approached the register immediately, or as immediately as he could, after entering the store.
"Did I leave a ring in here?" He spoke in a monotone, yet concerned voice.
"I did not see one, sir." I began to look on the register counter.
"Oh, no." Came his concern. "I must have it somewhere. I must have it." His words trailed off in fear as he emptied his pocket of change onto the counter. Once it failed to appear in his change pile; "I had just put it on my keyring..." He fumbled his keys, appearing aimless and lost.
I called for Jonathon, the store manager.
"Where were you in the store?" I asked the man, hoping to send Jonathon on a search party.
"The last aisle, there." He pointed while he continued to fumble through his pockets with his right hand.
I sent Jonathon to search, knowing he'd search well since his wife had lost her wedding ring before, so the situation was very real to him.
The gentleman put his change back into his pocket and headed for the door. "I'll search in the car." He notified me with his back turned.
God, if it be in Your will, help this man to find his ring. No matter how simple or cheap this ring may be (I thought of a plastic ring.
), it means something to him, so Lord, please let it show up. In Christ's name. Amen.He leaned in the entrance, beaming, "I found it!" He held an older gold wedding ring with four diamonds above his head for me to see.
And he left again without saying a word.
Thank You, Lord.
.jpg)
