Did you go grocery shopping in the early afternoon of Friday, June 25, 2010? If so, this letter is for you. If not, read it anyway. It’s message is still for you.
Dear Fellow Shopper:
While you were entering or leaving the store, did you notice me? I was the one sitting next to a concrete pole, trying to catch my breath and gather my bearings. The one whose three-year-old son was standing next to, confused and a little afraid.
I was the the one with the obvious bright red spot on my right knee. The one with the golf-ball sized lump right above her right eye.
I know at least two of you saw me. One of you was leaving the store right behind me. You saw me trip and fall face-down on the concrete.
But you just walked by me. Did you think I was wearing a helmet or something? Or acting?
I also know that you, the sixty- or seventy-something, man saw me. I know, because you looked down at me as you exited the store with your shopping cart loaded with goods. And walked right on by without a word.
Did you have ice cream in your cart and was afraid it would melt in the heat? Or did you figure at your age you’d had your share of troubles, and that you deserved to be free from the bother of helping a mother who was obviously suffering?
A few others walked by me, and never even slowed their pace. Is seeing someone sitting on the path in front of a grocery store, looking distressed and checking her mouth for loose teeth, such a common thing?
Am I being too hard on you all? Maybe you just figured that someone else was in the process of helping me, or that I was one of those “liberated” women who can do it all herself? I can accept that excuse – poor as it is – for most of you.
You who actually saw me fall and crack my forehead and skin my knee on the cement, on the other hand, you deserve every bit of shame and embarrassment that comes into your life.
Were you the customer entering the store who looked at me with alarm and asked, “Are you all right?” If so, a thousand thanks. Do you realize you were the only customer who noticed and had compassion on me?
Were you one of the two employees who saw me and asked if I needed help? I thank you, but I have to ask: if you had been a customer instead of an employee, would you done anything?
To all of you grocery shoppers on June 25, 2010, even the one who ignored my painful, potentially perilous fall: I forgive you.
But I will ask you to search your hearts and ask yourself this question: “Is this the kind of person I am supposed to be?”
