She is a tiny Oriental woman long past her
middle age yet with facial features that are timeless
white hair hanging loose a bright headband to
match the COVID mask holding her bob in place
unless it's caught in a girlish ponytail, swinging
in rhythm to her practised, practical movement
as she marches groceries along the conveyor belt
scanning each all the while chatting, smiling
taking no heed of the truculence surrounding her.
As gracious as she is efficient she assures me it is
no bother unpacking the items I've placed in a
bag meant to be kept apart from what I'm taking
home. Each item is priced and carefully replaced
the bag to be left for the Food Bank. Nothing
fazes this woman other than the discovery her wallet
was missing and despite frantic efforts could not
be found. Never before had I seen a furrowed
brow above her trusting eyes. Until it was returned
her faith in life's acquaintances restored
somewhat as her manner has done mine.
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