I was in a LOOOOONG line at the post office today and when I finally got near the window, the woman in front of me asks for Christmas stamps.
The cashier says, "Well we have these wreaths and the winterberry ones. I guess they're trying to make EVERYONE happy," and rolls her eyes so hard she practically had to catch her balance.
Ruh-roh. I brace myself for an agreement from the customer and the expected ignorant banter about the War on Christmas, but she just smiled sweetly and said, "I like that. I'll take the winterberry." Her tone was so perfectly happy and stress-free that there was no way to take it as judgmental or critical. She had completely ignored the cashier's exasperation and had chosen to express delight and pleasure. It was beautiful.
And then it was my turn. We sorted the parcels and the PO clerk asked, "Do you need any stamps?"
"As a matter of fact I do - I'll take the Winterberry."
"Happy Holidays," she says, without eye-rolling or even a trace of sarcasm.
"Happy Holidays to you too," I reply, thinking maybe, just maybe, a little bit of kindness had crept across the counter, softened a cynical heart, and made the day brighter for both of us and the next people we met.
