Coming back from the doctor this afternoon, tired from the weekend and too little sleep, and feeling depressed because I always believe the worst-case scenario when something is wrong, I stopped at HEB.
"How's your day going?" the check-out boy asked. He was only about seventeen, tall, thin. Shaggy-ish brown hair.
"It's great," I said, but he was still looking at me. His question had been a real one, not just an automatic greeting. "I'm just a little worn out," I added.
"I thought so. I see it in your face."
I couldn't bear to spread this "down" that had taken control of me, and especially not to this sweet kid. I was ashamed that I had let it get to me - I have so much to be grateful for. I smiled at him. "Every day is a great day." That's what I believe, even if can't always feel it. But he made me remember. So...I said a prayer for him on my way out.
God has a way of dropping gifts in our path. Somehow, he knows just what we need. God bless that check-out boy.