I was in line at Wal-Mart.  I was armed with my usual clipboard with my list and my trusty old calculator.  I was proud that I was going to be under budget for the second week.  The lady in front of me looked tired and ragged.  She had two small children pulling on her and crying.  It was obvious that it was nap time for both Mom and kids.  She was holding a calculator and a very long list.  I was proud to see the tools of the trade being used.

The check-out lady told her her amount.  She handed over a food stamp card.  And then a new balance was given.  ”27.09″ the check out lady asked from her.  Stammering, the lady said, “There’s been some mistake.”  ”No ma’am.  You only had $135 on your card and the remaining balance is $27.09.” matter-of-factly stated came from the bold checker.  Trying to quieten her crying children, she persisted, ” I should only have a $14.00 remaining balance.”  Frustrated because the line of people to check out had increased, the checker got a printed receipt and handed it over to the lady.  ”It says $27.09″ she grumbled.

Now three ladies down our line, a “oh come on! just pay the rest will ya!” floated angerily down to the tired mother and her children.  Nevertheless, she continued searching for the checker’s mistake.  She pointed out that she had been charged twice for a couple of items.  Correcting the mistake, another angry and impatient sigh was being made.  ”That’s why we have credit cards lady!” was shouted.  The mother had patience of a saint.  She never took her eyes off of the receipt as she tried to figure out why she was still $6 over.  By this time, a supervisor had been called over to assess the problem.  I kept smiling and holding back the anger towards the loud mouth that was being so thoughtless and uncaring.  I was ready to shoot back some comments but I held my tongue.  Finally, disenheartend, the mother of those restless children had to make a choice between the Powerade and the obviously much needed children’s undies that were in the “non-foodstamp” pile.  The powerade and some pizza rolls were sent back and then the lady was under $14.00.   She neatly unfolded a ten a couple of ones and then pulled out two rolls of pennies from her purse.  She knew exactly how much she had to spend.  By this time, the lady next to me had had it with the loud mouth and pretty much told her where to go, “Number 15 is open.”  Then she flashed her calculator and long list towards me.  I smiled.  ”We must stick together,” sounded off in my head.

My heart broke for the mother.  I have never had to be on foodstamps and it was obvious that she doesn’t abuse the system.  She was almost in tears a couple of times but she held her head up high and didn’t allow the impatience of others to wear her down.  May God give the mother of those two crying children peace of mind and bless her with some unexpected fundings.  I hope I get behind her again.  I would definately give her a hand up; like I should have in the first place.

Related posts:

1. My Heart Broke (Again)
2. A Change of Heart
3. Heart Attacks and Annie Oakley