69: A Precious Soul Moment

69 

A Precious Soul Moment 

At Food Basics in Midland, his shopping cart bulged with all the right foods, plenty of vegetables (carrots, kale, chard, broccoli, lettuce, and other greens), no meat but half a dozen packages of tofu, milk and other foods giving one the impression that this young man and his family were discerning, healthy eaters, which delighted me; in fact, his whole easy, natural demeanor pleased me. Here’s a man in charge of his life, I thought to myself.

He hadn’t quite placed all of his items onto the moving counter when he excused himself and reached over and grabbed a Coffee Crisp from the quick-sale shelf in front of the cash register. “I have to get my son a chocolate bar. I think this one’s his favorite,” he said, and went on bagging his groceries while the cashier punched through the remaining items.

He continued bagging while the cashier rang up the rest of his order, but his side of the counter was full and she placed the remaining items on the second counter, and then the young man paid the cashier and she began ringing up our order, and I went and waited for them to come through so I could bag them. As I waited, the young man was reaching over to my side to bag his remaining order. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot of groceries,” he apologized.

“There’s no hurry. I’m sure your little guy won’t mind waiting for his chocolate bar,” I said, and smiled at his characteristically Canadian courtesy.

“I don’t think he’ll mind,” said the young man. Actually, he wasn’t that young; perhaps middle thirties. But he had the appearance of a newly graduated science student on his first job, probably for the government, perhaps for the forestry or fisheries department. His sandy blond hair was longish, and he wore a white heavy hand-knitted turtle neck sweater, and a pair of high rubber boots. And by the look of his eyes and face, he hadn’t lost his idealism.

 “Are you sure you got your son the right chocolate bar?” I asked.

 “I hope so,” he said, smiling at my friendliness.

“I love Coffee Crisp too, I said. “Is your boy your only child?”

“Yes. Just one,” he said, with a serious smile which I took to mean that they had thought long and hard about how many children they would have; but that didn’t surprise me.

“And what’s his ambition when he grows up?” I asked.

“Oh, we’re giving him the choice to become whatever he wants,” the young man said proudly, just like any free-thinking modern-day parent would say.

I frowned and waited a moment before replying: “It’s great to let your young fellow follow his own bliss, but it’s hard out here without an education. I’d see to it that he gets a degree before letting him do his own thing. If you don’t mind my asking, what do you do?”

“I work for the government. I have a degree in engineering. I know what you mean, but we’d like to give our son the chance to make up his own mind.”

“That’s commendable and very liberal-minded, but without a good education the world can be harder than it need be. I’m a writer, but I had to take up a trade to survive.”

The young man started, as though hearing me for the first time, and our little exchange became something other, a precious moment of soul-to-soul communication, and his demeanor changed instantly. “You’re right. It’s hard enough out here without a degree.”

“Your son can follow his bliss, but make sure he’s ready for life first,” I said, as I began placing our groceries into the re-usable bags that Penny had brought with her.

The young man was ready to leave, but he didn’t know what to say; so I smiled and relieved him of his obligation, “It was nice talking with you.”

“Yeah, you too,” he said, and started to leave; but before leaving he turned and said to me, “I think I’m going to have a little talk with my son when I get home.”

“Before or after you give him his chocolate bar?”

“Before, I think,” he said, and smiled self-consciously. 

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