Happy Holidays
It was Christmas Eve...
I had just finished a nine and a half hour shift at work, the local supermarket, when I saw Margaret.
Margaret, she's one of my usual customers who I try to always make an effort to talk to even if I'm not serving her. She's a lovely elderly woman; short, a little hunched over and moves with utmost grace. Margaret always wears this tiny sun hat to cover her balding hair and hides her beautiful grey eyes behind stylish sunglasses. She's never really been able to remember my name but she sure does recognise me when she sees me.
The day before Christmas Eve, I served Margaret amidst the mad rush, and she left me with a small lindor chocolate insisting I take it because she appreciates our conversations so much. Her tiny gesture made my long shift well worth it, I couldn't keep the warmth I felt from melting my tiny heart.
I thought I wouldn't see Margaret till after Christmas so I asked what her plans for the holidays were and she said she may spend it alone or might go to friends. From the sound of her voice, I could tell she didn't have actual plans for Christmas Day and my heart shattered.
Despite this, I farewelled Margaret and wished her a very Merry Christmas. As I saw her leave, I felt this poking at my heart, a form of guilt or regret, wishing I had something to give to her in return to make her Christmas one to remember. I almost ran after her to invite her to my family's Christmas lunch, but the fear in me outweighed the urge I felt to be kind.
It was Christmas Eve...
I just bought a bottle of wine and was beyond ready to go home and put my feet up. Little did I know, serendipity was about to shake up my evening plans.
When I saw Margaret I decided to check up on how she was doing as just the day before, she told me she had trouble sleeping because she had so much going on in her mind.
A conversation I imagined to take about five minutes, ended up in Margaret telling me about most of her life and thirty minutes later I was still standing outside the entry to my work.
At one point, in the quietest, most humble voice Margaret told me how she always wanted a daughter and due to complications with her first child she wasn't able to have any more kids. My heart at this point wanted to welcome this tiny old lady in, so I extended the offer for her to come to Christmas lunch with my family. Being the stubborn lady she is, Margaret insisted she couldn't accept my offer and instead offered to buy me flowers.
Little to say, I ended up doing Margaret's grocery shopping with her. Half way through the store she forgot my name and had forgotten about most of what we spoke about. In that moment I knew, the woman standing before me, had gone through so much heartache and loss, and therefore she had aged far beyond her years.
When Margaret hugged me before I left, it was the kind of embrace that each person knew if they let go, that moment was never guaranteed again. I felt this overwhelming sense of emotions that told me our paths had crossed for some sort of reason. I believe Margaret's purpose in my life, was to remind me of the true spirit of Christmas that exists in each of us.
Before serendipity struck on that Christmas Eve, I did not feel in the Christmas spirit at all. Up until then it had been all about working, paying bills, buying presents and stressing about the new year. I had forgotten to appreciate the smaller things in life, which is ultimately the heart of Christmas. It's not about what you unwrap on Christmas morning but rather who you spend that moment with, and for people like Margaret, they spend it alone.
Christmas twenty seventeen has been my favourite one so far, for I was reminded that no matter who you are or who you think you are, each of us have the capability to show kindness, compassion and humility around the festive season.
Margaret was my greatest gift this Christmas.
Camron Smith
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