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The Homefront: Caring for each other gets us through hard times

By D. Louise Brown - Special to the Standard-Examiner | Jan 24, 2023

D. Louise Brown

The little mother moved through the grocery store slowly, pushing a shopping cart while surrounded by her brood of seven young children. The littlest one was seated in the cart; the rest swarmed around her in a nearly silent, well-mannered group.

If you’ve ever watched a mother duck with her ducklings swirling around her as she glides from place to place, you get the idea. The kids were quiet, respectful and never more than 5 feet from her. It was like a ballet, except for the clunky wheeled cart around which the flock moved.

The mom looked surprisingly young. So many children, yet she was energetic, soft spoken and perpetually smiling. The children — unlike some kids you see in a store — made no demands, sneaked no items into the cart, never raised their voices. Watching them was like watching ground troops move strategically through the terrain, gathering up items, heading in a certain direction with a certain goal in mind. This little mom’s goal was her shopping list which she referred to often, picking up groceries to study, choose or reject, depositing some in the cart and moving on.

I noticed them just after entering the store. It seemed I was on their same route as I ran into them several times throughout my shopping. I never heard them — just saw them.

Meanwhile, lost in my own list, I fumed. How on earth could prices of everything rise so high and so quickly. I wondered how families could even afford groceries these days. Especially young, large families, I thought, as the duckling family reappeared.

My indignation took root in them. I checked items off my list, sometimes because I put the item in my cart and sometimes because I looked at the price and thought, “Not today. Maybe never.” Then I’d see the duckling family again and wonder, “How does she buy cereal for so many? How does she afford milk and bread?”

Looking around, I asked myself the same question for many of the other Saturday-shopping families there. I wanted to call out to them, “How are you doing this? How are you making your food budget stretch to buy a can of corn or a loaf of bread that costs twice what it did a year ago? Do you just not buy it anymore? But your kids still need to eat, right? So how are you doing this?” The longer I shopped, the more discouraged I became. Not so much for myself but for the young families around me. Especially the duckling family.

That little family showed up at the check-out line just next to the one I stood in. Still the same smile on that sweet mom’s face. Still the quiet, respectful flock of children. They helped their mom load the groceries onto the conveyor belt. The mom’s smile wavered as the amount climbed. My angst climbed with it. I hoped the envelope she clutched in her hand held enough dollars for the groceries going into the sacks. I wondered what she’d do if it didn’t.

Then out of nowhere, a woman appeared at the counter just as the clerk announced the total. She swiped her credit card, pressed the button, turned to the little mom and said, “I’d like to buy your family’s groceries today.” And then she was gone. In 10 seconds, she performed a miracle, then disappeared, even as a stunned silence hung in the air.

The children stood awed. The shocked little momma’s eyes were opened wide. The clerk shrugged, smiled, and helped load the bags into her cart.

Wherever you are, good woman, please know you are a heroine. My fuming and angst were absolutely worthless to that little family. But you reminded a whole group of strangers that we make it through times like these by helping each other as best as we can.

Your kindness lifts us.

D. Louise Brown lives in Layton. She writes a biweekly column for the Standard-Examiner.

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