It was just past noon on a muggy Thursday in Parsons, Kansas, and the air conditioning inside Meyers Market was barely keeping up. Mary Simmons, 68, was trying to get through her grocery list before the grandkids arrived for the weekend. She had ham to buy, potato salad to make, and her husband’s favorite brand of iced tea that always seemed to be on the top shelf.
With her cart full, she made her way to register three. It was a small-town store, just three registers total, and it looked like a new girl was manning the one open lane. Mary placed her items on the belt, offering a polite “hello.” The girl, maybe 19 or 20, nodded quickly without looking up.
As the scanner beeped and the bags started filling, Mary noticed her eggs weren’t being double-bagged, and the bread was tucked under a can of baked beans.
She felt her irritation rise. She opened her mouth, ready to say something sharp, something about common sense or how people just didn’t take pride in their work anymore, but then stopped. The girl’s hands were trembling ever so slightly.
Mary exhaled slowly and asked, as gently as she could, “First week?”
The girl looked up, startled. “Second day,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I know I’m slow.”
Mary smiled instead of scolding. “We’ve all had a second day. Don’t worry about the bread, I’ve got a few tough grandkids who’ll flatten it anyway.”
The girl’s shoulders relaxed, and she smiled, a small, grateful smile. “Thank you. Most folks have been pretty upset with me today.”
“Well,” Mary said as she swiped her loyalty card, “people are carrying a lot these days. But it’s not all on your shoulders. You’re doing fine.”
As Mary left, she noticed the young woman pause for a moment before ringing up the next customer—just long enough to wipe a tear from her eye.
The following week, when Mary returned for more tea and a tub of butter pecan ice cream, the same girl was at register three. This time, she looked up first and said, “Hi, Mrs. Simmons.”
Mary didn’t remember giving her name. But apparently, her kindness had made an impression.
And that’s how Mary came to realize something: sometimes, the moment right before you lose your temper is actually a chance to make someone else’s day a little easier.