“We don’t remember days, we remember moments.”—Cesare Pavese 

It was the day before Thanksgiving and I was downstairs in the office of St. Monica School when Michael(age 10) came flying in and said, “Mom, you forgot to give me a lunch!” he declared with eyes as big as saucers!
 

“Oh, Buddy, I replied. I’ll run next door to Weis Markets and get you a LUNCHABLE. I’ll be right back, OK?” I said exasperated that I had forgotten to pack him a lunch, yet again!
 

I threw on my coat and literally ran next door to the small WEIS Market that was situated conveniently, next door to the school. It was one of those places that was dated and past its prime but oh, so convenient. 
 

I flew into the store and made my way down the first isle, where I knew I would find the LUNCHABLES. I was oblivious to everything around me, as I focused on my task at hand. I grabbed a LUNCHABLE and scurried back down the aisle… "quick as a whip!"
 

The check-outs were crowded with day before Thanksgiving shoppers. I made my way over to the Customer Service counter, where I saw only one person in line. I say “I saw” but in actuality, I looked beyond this person, as I held Michaels’ lunch and was preoccupied with everything I still had to do, the day before Thanksgiving.
 

As I stood there, alone with my thoughts, I was drawn to the conversation between the woman behind the counter and the man standing in front of me. The first thing I noticed was the way the man was dressed. He had layers of clothing on, he was disheveled and his clothes were tattered, worn, and dirty. I noticed he had gloves on in which all the finger-tips were exposed.( If this was a movie or TV show, he would have been the quintessential homeless looking man.)
 

Then I heard the woman behind the counter speak.

“Sir, she said. I’m sorry but you don’t have ANY points left.”

“But I NEVER used them!” the man pleaded with her.

“I’m sorry sir,” she repeated kindly. “But I’ve checked repeatedly. Perhaps someone else in your family used your card.”

“No!!" the man replied in desperation. "No one did and I NEED my free turkey!”

The woman had a scared look on her face. She was unsure about what to do next.

“Please!” the man pleaded in a desperate tone.

My heart began to ache for him.
 

“He can have my points”, I said very matter-of-fact. I was just trying to buy my LUNCHABLE as quickly as possible and return to school. I remember the woman looking at me like I had 3 horns on my head. I sensed that she didn’t believe the man.

“Are you sure? She gasped. You can get 10% off your order, you know?”

This was a no-brainer...10% of a $3 LUNCHABLE or a turkey for this poor man for Thanksgiving?

“Yes, I replied. I won’t use the turkey or the points. Please give it to him.”
 

“She took my WEIS MARKETS card and with some attitude she swiped it as I waited behind the man with my LUNCHABLE. The woman left the counter to go get his free turkey. And then like a bolt of lightning from on high, the man turned around to face me. His hair was matted, his clothes were dirtier looking from the front-but the thing I remember most vividly about him-was the look in his eyes. There was a glassy appearance to them. A far off look of abandonment, desperation, and isolation was present. They were vacant and hollow eyes. He squared his body to mine and then in the MOST PROFOUND EXPRESSION OF GRATITUDE I HAVE EVER BEEN PRIVLEGED TO WITNESS…he spoke. (Continued Next Week)