The Indefatigability of Good

The Indifatigability of Good.jpg

I recently had a conversation with someone about an event that took place last week at a big box store. As she shopped she could overhear the voices of two young-sounding girls in the next aisle who were shopping with their mother. She could tell from their conversation that they had each been given two dollars with which to pick out an ornament and were debating over what to pick.  They then asked their mother if they could look at the Christmas trees.  Their mother gently reminded them that they had both been told that this year they would have to choose between having a tree, and having presents, as she had lost her job.  They had chosen the presents. She then reminded them that were going to make a big tree out of paper, and hang their ornaments from that. My friend said there was no complaining from the girls who just wanted to look at and admire the lighted trees.  She took a quick peek around the end of the neighboring aisle to see a small, warm family group looking at the trees they would never be able to afford. 

My friend then found a store sales person, pointed out the family, and explained that she wanted to buy a tree for them.  She would pay for it, but he would be responsible for being at the register with the box when the family checked out with their chosen ornaments.  The only stipulation she placed on the transaction was that it was to remain completely anonymous.

The next time she saw the family was at checkout where they were a few lines away from her.  At first she could tell that the mother was confused about why she was being given this tree as the sales clerk earnestly explained that it was a gift from a fellow shopper.  She then burst into tears as did her two girls.  The clerk simply looked up, smiled at my friend in a conspiracy of giving, and it was done.

But it was not really done.  How many people in that crowded store had seen the transaction?  And how about the clerk and his fellow workers who I am certain he told?  And what about the families at dinner tables that night that had a good story to tell?  And what about my friend who could feel the reality of good in that passing moment.  Good has no beginning and no end, but is around us no matter what the current circumstances may be.  It is like a ripple from a stone tossed in a pond, the effects of which go out and out and out in ever widening rings.  But the crowning touch of this story is the anonymity of the giver, which is so important.  Good has no name, no title, it just is.  And, yes, I know who this person is, but I will never tell.  It is enough that the name in question is simply ……. good.