a little perspective

Since I’ve moved to the Chicago area, I’ve had astonishing luck with finding my way around, especially for someone who has a less-than-average sense of direction. Each outing, up until today, has been accomplished without making too many U-turns or frustrated lane changes. But I should have known that I would break my streak today, especially when I woke up late for my appointment. One of the only clichés that I feel quite comfortable using is, “When it rains it pours.”
I had a Doctor’s appointment today to get a TB screening. My alarm clock decided not to go off, so I woke up 15 minutes before I was supposed to be there. I threw on clothes, put a red ribbon around my unwashed hair, got directions, and jumped in my car for what was to be a five-minute trip. When the five-minute trip turned into a twenty-minute one, I started to get angry. I cursed mapquest, the health center, and my alarm clock—I would miss my appointment. After a few minutes of seething, I began to calm down. I pulled off to a Walgreen’s to ask for directions and decided to relax. I couldn’t do anything to control the situation, so I might as well look at it as a mini-suburban adventure.
Outside the sliding doors there was a black woman dressed in a black coat, holding a ratty looking stuffed orange tiger. She looked at me and asked me if I could spare some change, “Please, I’m hungry and my feet hurt.”
On principle, I don’t give money to people on the street. I don’t know who they are, I don’t know their situation, and I don’t know what they will use it for. Even when I was in Ethiopia, when mothers with breastfeeding babies would hold out their hands when our bus stopped, “Money, please, money, please…mother, money, please,” I would turn away. And this was essentially what I did today. I look at the woman, gave a tight-lipped, apologetic smile, tucked my head down, and walked into the store.
The old woman with watery eyes who stood at the counter wasn’t sure where to find the health center, but she listened intently as I asked. “What is the address again?” I repeated it, and as she rubbed her watery eyes, trying to think of what to tell me, I noticed two white men enter the store, the one saying to the other, “Yeah right, like I’m gonna give money to her. Her feet hurt…whatever.”
When the old woman provided more confusion than direction, an asian woman who had just finished checking out asked me if I had called information. “How do you do that?” I asked, immediately wanting to follow up the question with an explanation: I’m sorry, I’m from a small town, I don’t know how to do these things. She dialed a number, extended her thin black Razor to me, and waited patiently. Of course, at that point, my luck would continue, and I thoroughly screwed up the automated information call. I apologized as I handed the phone back to her. “Oh, it’s ok. I’ll just call them again.” As she took over the phone, I watched a black couple negotiate their several grocery bags and two small, tired children on their way out of the store. The man said to the woman, “Please, baby, I just need you to take this. I can’t carry any more,” and I was touched by the lack of irritation in his voice, despite the crankiness of his children. After reaching an operator on the information line, the asian woman with the nice purse proceeded to write down the address of the health center on the back of her Walgreen’s receipt and hand it to me. I thanked her profusely and walked out the door.
On my way out, I saw the black woman with the cranky children hand a bill to the woman with the tiger. The tiger woman said “Thank you,” and the mother said, “You’re welcome. Oh honey, don’t cry,” and I turned to see the woman’s shoulders heaving and tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
I wondered what would have happened if I walked into Walgreen’s to ask for directions, and I was black. Would the old woman have regarded me so kindly? Would the asian woman have offered her cell phone? Would she have tried so hard to help me?
I wondered if maybe God allowed me to wake up late, to get lost, and to take a little detour. I was forty minutes late for my appointment, but I got in anyway. The frustration of a few inconveniences was worth a little bit of perspective at Walgreen’s.