When you return from a long road trip with two young children, the last thing you want to discover is that your oldest has pink eye. Inevitably, somewhere between “kissing baby” and the poke-sister-in-the-eye trick, you will lose your mind in trying to confine the infection to just one child. Tears will be shed, sleep will be lost, and you will offer a prayer of thanksgiving for antibiotics.
And, if you are very lucky, you will regain your sanity just in time for your youngest to start rubbing her eyes.
—
Last week, in the midst of endless eye drops and errands, I considered all the hardship that young parents face. Many days it feels as though we wake up bracing ourselves for war. Who will be sick? How will I meet my child’s unspoken needs? Can I control all of the emotions that I will encounter today? It always amazes me how a poor night of sleep can derail our best intentions.
A moment at the local pharmacy this week, however, challenged me to consider my struggles in a new way. During my second prescription pick-up, I noticed an older gentleman behind me in line. He wore a back brace and rested his aged body against a metal cane. The words Army Veteran on his hat made me smile with the kind of gratitude that transcends words.
As I moved aside to wait for my order, I observed his softened posture at the sight of my daughter’s eyes. “She sure is beautiful.” It seemed that I was the stranger in this circumstance, as the workers all knew the man by name.
“That’ll be $2.52, sir.”
With tender care, the veteran flipped through countless identification cards and retrieved a five-dollar bill from his simple plastic wallet. He did not appear to have any credit or debit cards, and I noticed that, with the exception of his change from the transaction, only a single ten-dollar bill remained in his possession.
“Here you go, sweetheart. Now don’t spend it all in one place!”
With a mostly toothless grin and an air of life wisdom, the man handed my daughter one of the dollar bills he had just been given. He lingered only for a moment, and somehow I mustered a word of thanks in the midst of sheer astonishment.
—
As I drove home that day, I found my own eyes pink and welling with tears. A stranger’s act of kindness inspired me to revisit my own difficulties. The selfless sacrifices we make each day as parents don’t have to be grand to be far-reaching, and the answer should always be love.
I am reminded that I am still learning – from teachers known and unknown. No hard time lasts forever. And, if we look closely, we can see this promise sweetly marching in the eyes of our children.
