A Kind Word is a Soltice to the Wounded Heart

Today I worked at Burnt Mountain Trading Company here in Jasper where I have my antique booth.  I can't say that I have a thriving business but until the last couple of months, I had been encouraged that something good would happen there.  I read that the economy is improving and I wonder what world the writers and forecasters live in. Its not the one here in the North Georgia Mountains where I sit and take up money for trinkets and anything that has a bear on it.  We have double digit unemployment.  I sometimes find myself thinking of another life I had, a life that seemed more interesting and fun.  Certainly more profitable. I think of my life, my shop in Fairhope, Alabama.  My shop sat on the busiest corner in downtown right by the clock on the square in what I often call the Carmel of the South. Everything about Fairhope was lovely.  Flowers everywhere and Christmas lights until after Mardi Gras. In my shop I would feel special and interesting and almost pretty just because of the the beauty all around me.  I loved the interaction with celebrity customers like Fanny Flagg and Dolly Parton. Mrs. Fob James, the governor's wife often stopped in while visiting at the Grand Hotel. I loved telling them about Fairhope and my shop.  The interest they showed.  Even the customers who were not famous but just worldly and sophisticated made me feel that way. I'm not the snob I sound like, it was just a wonderful way of life that is gone for me. And no one had a full, long beard or bought items with bears on them.  But today someone came in Burnt Mountain that reminded me of the best part of being in a shop, a retail business.  Its the people, the customers you meet. The interesting customer today was a beautiful blond from Buckhead who carried the most delicate miniature poodle on her arm. "Precious" had a rhinestone collar and a blue ribbon in her hair.  You might have thought she was a toy dog except for the sparkle in her eyes and the way she tilted her head when spoken to.  She was a service dog to the couple.  The pretty lady's husband had suffered a series of stokes that made it difficult for him to walk but not to speak and we talked and joked of a better time for both of us. As the pretty lady left and I said my goodbyes, she called to her husband in the kindest of ways, "Come on sweet boy, we need to beat the traffic back to Atlanta". Sweet boy was well into his 70s and maybe much older.  But the pretty lady who spoke so sweetly to him and to me, could have been talking to a child or the most handsome of men, either way it touched you to hear her voice. In the few minutes we talked she had complimented me twice and her "darling" husband three times. I didn't envy her because I knew her life was difficult caring for him and she said that they had never had children to share this with. Instead I envied him that he heard her kindness every day of his life at a time when it must have sounded so comforting. And she had stayed with him during a time when others might have faltered and run from the trials they faced. I will try harder to speak the way she did today.  And should I ever have a sweet boy again, he will hear that love in my voice that I heard in hers. Some times it really is a blessing just to get up even if its to sell another black bear from China.