"Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you."
The grocery store is not my favorite place, and I will put off going for days. However, there was a particular day when our household was getting low on the usual goods — not to mention the fact that some items were growing mold — and it was time I journeyed to the store.
I picked up the essentials, then shimmied my cart to the shortest checkout line available, antsy to leave and take off my face mask. (This was in 2021 during the COVID-19 pandemic.) As I stood at a recommended social distance and was next in line to check out, I did a quick scan of my grocery cart, hoping I hadn't forgotten anything. I turned to glance at the aisles behind me to spark my memory of a potentially forgotten item, and just then a young mom and her four-year-old son sneaked behind me with three items in their basket: some meat, bread, and milk.
"Excuse me, ma'am," the mother said, interrupting my distance-browsing. "I'm trying to get back on my feet. I've just moved here and am staying at the battered women's shelter, and I'm just wondering if you could help me."
I smiled and looked over to her precious little boy and said, "Is this all you need? Seriously, you've got to need more."
"No, no. Just this will be fine."
"But what about some fruit?"
"Well, we could use some grapes."
I picked up the little boy and put him in him mom's cart and said, "Well, let's go shopping!"
We went up and down the aisles gathering fruits, veggies, snacks, and eggs, and we loaded up her cart. I just kept smiling and telling her she needed a little more. "What's your favorite fruit... snacks... meats?"
As we shopped, I got to know a little more about this mother who had relocated to Charlotte, North Carolina, area after escaping an abusive relationship. She was put up at the women's shelter and had just started a job at the hospital. She was very grateful for all people God had sent along her rocky path.
With her cart now full, we ended back at the checkout line. I put her basket before mine and started to unload. Then I hugged her and prayed for her, and said goodbye.
But the story doesn't end here.
It was now time for me to get my own groceries and check out. Christine was the store clerk behind the register that day, and she realized I didn't know the woman whose groceries I had just paid for. Christine was upset about what I had done, saying they always come in begging and that I shouldn't have paid for her groceries. She even called the manager over to reinforce her message.
"Where is she? What did she look like?" the manager asked.
I looked straight into the manager's eyes and told him, "You never disobey the Holy Spirit's promoting, especially when it comes to giving. If Jesus tells you to do something, you'd better be ready."
I explained what it meant to have a servant's heart and that I love to give. And of this woman was truly just a beggar, well, then that's up to God to deal with.
The manager mumbled, "Okay," and walked off.
As I turned back to Chrisitne, it was time to pay for my groceries. She asked if I wanted to round up my bill to make a donation toward a charity.
"Now, what do you think?" And with my reply she let out an infectious giggle. I told her that is what the world needs more of: more laughter, more grace, more generosity, more reaching out to those less fortunate. God tells us "to whom much is given, from him much will be required" (Luke 12:48 NKJV)
As I wheeled my groceries past the bagger, he said, "Ma'am, that was an honorable thing you did. Thank you."
But wait. There's more!
For days, I could not get Christine off of my mind. I know that every day she experiences people who shoplift, or who beg, and even those who do much more bizarre acts in the store. I couldn't blame her for wanting to protect the store and the other unsuspecting customers from being taken advantage of. She was trying to do her part. But her smile and laughter afterward just kept coming back to me. So a few days later I sat down to write her a note and signed a few of my angel books for her. I pulled my car up to the front of the grocery store and asked an employee who was pushing the grocery carts if Christine was working that day.
"Yes, ma'am. She is at her station, the number one lane." I went in, with gifts in hand, and looked into her eyes. "Remember me?" And then I handed her my books as a gift.
Whether a whole bunch of us were either entertaining angels or being entertained by them that day — including the young mom, her sweet son, Christine, the store manager, the bagger, and me — I can't help but think God and His host of angels were somehow involved. Perhaps with the small, random act of kindness, they were moving in people's lives in even more ways than I'll ever know.
This is an excerpt from Anne Neilson's book titled Entertaining Angels: True Stories and Art Inspired by Divine Encounters
