I went to Costco today. I rarely go on the weekends (it can get so crazy), and especially midday. But I also rarely find myself with a day where I have no real estate appointments, so I thought I'd take advantage of that opening.
I lucked out... 'cause I saw what I thought must be a mirage. A large stack of Clorox wipes. Maximum 1 pkg. per person... but I was able to snag a five-pack, and it feels as though I won the lottery.
I had gone to Costco for something specific (which, of course, they were out of), and $179.00 later I walk out with a whole bunch of non-essential stuff... but excited 'cause I found Clorox wipes.
As I drove away... near the exit... there was a woman holding a sign (fill in the sign with your own language... "out of work... trying to provide for my family"... something like that)... and behind her, sitting the shade of a tree, were two children (maybe four and five)... clearly miserable. The temperature on my car's thermometer showed a very high 95° (that's really high for the Chicago area). And there was this woman... well-dressed, proud, with a sign begging for money. For me, it was a "there, but for the grace of God, go I". It could easily have been me if real estate had gone the wrong way when Covid hit.
I stopped to give her some money... (the guy behind me honked)... I waved her over, and reach into my pocket... all I had was a twenty and a single. A single wasn't adequate... so I reached my hand out with the twenty... and the single.... and said "take both". She was emotional, and grateful.
I realized that for me... $21.00 doesn't even register. It's not that money doesn't have value... it does. But for me... I drove straight from Costco to the ATM and refilled my pocket. That last $21.00 from my pocket won't really be missed. For her, that $21.00 probably meant she could get her kids out of the sun for the day... and feed them.
There, but for the grace of God...
