The Feel of the Familiar
With my list in hand and only an hour to accomplish that which needed purchasing, I made my way into the store. My wish was to grab and go as snow was in the forecast. Thus, I needed to accomplish some things before the weather impeded travel.
It was supposed to be a short trip into the store and out again, but as I sort of become like my surroundings, I began to linger in this aisle, and that aisle, ogling over that which was before me. I get inspired when I’m in the midst of the muddle as there were feelings of nostalgia in the air.
The tried-and-true winter caps sporting red and black wool checks were on display. Socks, boots, beef jerky, large cans of popcorn, mittens galore and much more. Slippers, pet food, bird seed for winter critters, and tools were everywhere! The shirts sold looked warm and functional. The jeans and jackets looked as though they were made strong to last long.
As I made my way to the check out, the older gentleman just ahead of me made it known that he had switched out the items he needed and by doing so had saved himself a pile of money. Not only was he thrilled, but the woman at the check-out seemed equally as excited. As he shuffled away, the cashier smiled and quietly spoke, “He’s such a nice man. He always calls me his girlfriend.” Tenderhearted she was in conversation about the man who had needed the help she’d given.
Frankly, the friendly atmosphere made me want to continue shopping in a store where on display were not only goods, but the good of those who were choosing to spend their money here. The desire to help those who entered in was evident. She treated me with equal dignity, and I made a mental note to self to do just that—return.
There’s something warm and inviting about the simple things. The simple smile, the simple conversation, the simple time taken to tend to the customer, and the simple shuffle of an older gentleman who still had a bounce in his step when he saved himself a few bucks.
I like the familiar. It feels safe. It made me feel like others not only tended to the needs of those who were the customers, but actually cared about them. The worker helped to make others feel seen and it made one want to keep shuffling at a pace that was familiar rather than hurried.
For a moment, it felt like home even when I knew full well this earth is not home. Everyone already knows that. It’s just nice that while we are still here, people care enough to tend to the other. It’s thoughtful. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with thoughtful.
What else helps our space feel like the familiar? The smell of something cooking greets as others enter in. A smile of welcome tells others they indeed are. “Why, it’s so good to see you…” can make another want to return where they are not only seen, but wanted. I suppose it’s the little things that help get one through the day as this gives not only a sense of the familiar, but of hope.
Hebrews 6:19 says, “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” A little later on in Hebrews 13:8 it gets even better. “Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today, and forever.” Lest we forget—may we remember—”for this is most certainly true” (M. Luther). Amen.
Kathleen Kjolhaug, OblSB
Photo: Kampus Prodcution via Pixels
This article was first published in Theology in the Trenches, a column written by oblate Kathleen Kjolhaug. Posted with permission. Read more articles on her blog, Theology in the Trenches.
