I used to believe that people with plenty would have an easier time sharing.<\/p>\n
That morning changed my mind.<\/p>\n
I had gone into the grocery store for milk.<\/p>\n
Nothing else.<\/p>\n
I wasn't looking for trouble, and I certainly wasn't planning to get involved in somebody else's argument.<\/p>\n
But I heard a woman's voice coming from the refrigerated section.<\/p>\n
It was quiet enough that I almost missed it.<\/p>\n
"Could you please leave one for me?"<\/p>\n
I stopped with my hand near the milk.<\/p>\n
There was something about the way she said it.<\/p>\n
She wasn't demanding anything.<\/p>\n
She sounded as though she had already asked once and was afraid of asking again.<\/p>\n
I turned toward the end of the aisle.<\/p>\n
Two women were standing beside a refrigerated display filled with discounted turkeys.<\/p>\n
Or rather, it had been filled with turkeys.<\/p>\n
One woman was removing them faster than I could understand why she needed them.<\/p>\n
The other stood beside her holding a small shopping basket.<\/p>\n
I noticed the older woman first.<\/p>\n
She was tiny.<\/p>\n
Her blue coat looked worn along the edges, and she held her basket with both hands.<\/p>\n
There was almost nothing inside it.<\/p>\n
She wasn't blocking the display.<\/p>\n
She wasn't reaching across anybody.<\/p>\n
She simply stood there watching another woman take the food she had come to buy.<\/p>\n
The woman taking the turkeys couldn't have looked more different.<\/p>\n
Her camel-colored coat was expensive.<\/p>\n
Her heels made sharp little sounds against the floor whenever she shifted her feet.<\/p>\n
Her makeup was bright and carefully applied.<\/p>\n
And the purse hanging from her arm looked like something I would have been afraid to set down on a grocery cart.<\/p>\n
I knew who she was.<\/p>\n
Beatrice.<\/p>\n
In our town, that name meant something.<\/p>\n
Her family owned apartment buildings.<\/p>\n
They owned car dealerships.<\/p>\n
They also owned one of the largest homes around.<\/p>\n
People knew their money even if they didn't know them personally.<\/p>\n
I had recognized her before she turned her face toward me.<\/p>\n
Her clothes were enough.<\/p>\n
So was the way she occupied the space in front of the display.<\/p>\n
She wasn't rushing because she was late.<\/p>\n
She wasn't looking around to see whether anybody else needed something.<\/p>\n
She was taking every package with a red clearance sticker.<\/p>\n
One after another.<\/p>\n
I glanced down at the price.<\/p>\n
$9.99.<\/p>\n
That number stayed with me.<\/p>\n
It was printed in thick black figures underneath the red sticker.<\/p>\n
The sort of price that makes somebody stop when they've been watching every dollar.<\/p>\n
I looked at her cart.<\/p>\n
There were already so many turkeys in it that the packages had begun to sit unevenly.<\/p>\n
Some were stacked sideways.<\/p>\n
Others were wedged against the metal sides.<\/p>\n
I counted without meaning to.<\/p>\n
More than ten.<\/p>\n
And she was still reaching for another.<\/p>\n
The elderly woman took one small step closer.<\/p>\n
"Excuse me. I really do need one."<\/p>\n
Beatrice didn't look at her.<\/p>\n
She lifted another turkey and placed it on top of the others.<\/p>\n
The plastic wrapping made a dull sound when it hit the pile.<\/p>\n
I remember that sound clearly.<\/p>\n
It wasn't loud.<\/p>\n
But after what happened, I couldn't stop thinking about it.<\/p>\n
The older woman's basket hung from her fingers.<\/p>\n
She looked down into it for a moment.<\/p>\n
Then she tried again.<\/p>\n
"My grandson is sick."<\/p>\n
Beatrice kept working.<\/p>\n
"He has the flu," the grandmother continued. "I'm taking care of him by myself."<\/p>\n
I looked at the nearly empty basket.<\/p>\n
There was no reason for me to assume I knew anything about her life.<\/p>\n
But she was telling us what mattered.<\/p>\n
She had a sick child at home.<\/p>\n
She had very little money to spend.<\/p>\n
And she had come into the store hoping the discount would make a meal possible.<\/p>\n
"I thought I could cook some soup," she said.<\/p>\n
Her voice was steady, but she spoke slowly.<\/p>\n
Like she had to make herself explain something that should have needed no explanation.<\/p>\n
"The ones at the regular price cost close to forty dollars."<\/p>\n
I glanced at Beatrice.<\/p>\n
She had to be hearing every word.<\/p>\n
We were all standing close enough.<\/p>\n
There was no crowd between them.<\/p>\n
No music drowning anybody out.<\/p>\n
Just the hum from the refrigerated cases and the small noises of packages moving.<\/p>\n
Beatrice reached down again.<\/p>\n
"Get chicken instead."<\/p>\n
She said it as if the answer were obvious.<\/p>\n
The grandmother shook her head.<\/p>\n
"The chicken costs too much too."<\/p>\n
No anger.<\/p>\n
No accusation.<\/p>\n
Just a fact.<\/p>\n
I felt my fingers tighten around the milk I had picked up.<\/p>\n
I could have walked away.<\/p>\n
I could have decided that two strangers arguing over groceries had nothing to do with me.<\/p>\n
That's what I would normally have done.<\/p>\n
I didn't enjoy confrontations.<\/p>\n
I didn't like raising my voice in public.<\/p>\n
And I certainly didn't like arguing with someone whose family seemed to have influence everywhere in town.<\/p>\n
Looking back, I don't like admitting how much that last part mattered to me.<\/p>\n
But it did.<\/p>\n
I knew Beatrice came from money.<\/p>\n
And for a few seconds, that made me hesitate.<\/p>\n
The older woman looked at the display again.<\/p>\n
There was one turkey left.<\/p>\n
One.<\/p>\n
I saw her notice it.<\/p>\n
Her shoulders shifted forward slightly.<\/p>\n
She still had her basket in one hand.<\/p>\n
With the other, she began to reach toward the final package.<\/p>\n
I wanted her to get it.<\/p>\n
I remember thinking that if she could just pick it up, maybe the whole uncomfortable situation would be over.<\/p>\n
Beatrice moved first.<\/p>\n
Her hand closed around the turkey before the grandmother's fingers reached the wrapping.<\/p>\n
She pulled it out of the case.<\/p>\n
The older woman's hand stayed suspended for a moment.<\/p>\n
Then she lowered it.<\/p>\n
That movement bothered me more than I expected.<\/p>\n
She didn't grab.<\/p>\n
She didn't argue about whose hand had been closer.<\/p>\n
She just stopped.<\/p>\n
Beatrice lifted the last package over the edge of her cart.<\/p>\n
The grandmother looked at it.<\/p>\n
Then at Beatrice.<\/p>\n
"Please," she said. "You have so many already."<\/p>\n
Beatrice turned her head.<\/p>\n
For the first time, she seemed to give the older woman her full attention.<\/p>\n
But there was no kindness in it.<\/p>\n
"Is there something you don't understand?"<\/p>\n
The grandmother swallowed.<\/p>\n
"I was hoping you might let me buy one."<\/p>\n
Beatrice glanced toward the empty display.<\/p>\n
Then back at her cart.<\/p>\n
"I was here before you."<\/p>\n
She set the turkey on the pile.<\/p>\n
That was it.<\/p>\n
The display was empty.<\/p>\n
Every discounted turkey belonged to the woman who could probably have bought the full-price ones without checking her bank account.<\/p>\n
The grandmother had none.<\/p>\n
I stood there with the milk in my hand.<\/p>\n
I was staring at the red stickers.<\/p>\n
Twelve turkeys.<\/p>\n
At least twelve.<\/p>\n
All marked $9.99.<\/p>\n
That price was the whole reason the older woman had come over.<\/p>\n
For Beatrice, it appeared to be a reason to take everything.<\/p>\n
I could feel myself getting angry.<\/p>\n
Not the loud kind of anger that comes all at once.<\/p>\n
The quiet kind that starts with disbelief.<\/p>\n
I kept waiting for Beatrice to reconsider.<\/p>\n
Maybe she would see the woman's face.<\/p>\n
Maybe she would realize how little she was being asked to give up.<\/p>\n
Maybe she'd take one turkey off the pile and put it back.<\/p>\n
She didn't.<\/p>\n
She placed both hands on her cart.<\/p>\n
And the grandmother stood beside an empty refrigerated case.<\/p>\n
There was nothing left to choose.<\/p>\n
Nothing left to ask for.<\/p>\n
Except mercy.<\/p>\n
I hated that I had just thought of it that way.<\/p>\n
A woman had come to buy groceries.<\/p>\n
Now she was having to ask somebody richer than her for permission to purchase one package of discounted meat.<\/p>\n
She wasn't asking for a gift.<\/p>\n
She wasn't asking Beatrice to spend anything.<\/p>\n
She only wanted the chance to pay the posted price.<\/p>\n
Ten dollars.<\/p>\n
That was all.<\/p>\n
I looked at Beatrice again.<\/p>\n
Her face showed no sign that she considered any of this unusual.<\/p>\n
She seemed ready to leave.<\/p>\n
I knew I had reached the point where keeping quiet would be a choice too.<\/p>\n
And I wasn't proud of how long it had taken me.<\/p>\n
I hadn't entered the store intending to challenge anyone.<\/p>\n
But standing there watching the grandmother hold her empty basket, I made a decision.<\/p>\n
I wasn't going to pretend I hadn't seen what happened.<\/p>\n
I used to believe that people with plenty would have an easier time sharing. That morning changed my mind. I had gone into the grocery store for milk. Nothing else. … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":18661,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-18662","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-feel-every-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18662","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=18662"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18662\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18666,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18662\/revisions\/18666"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/18661"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=18662"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=18662"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=18662"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}