The young father’s voice is audible to everyone near him. He’s intently teaching his toddler son, maybe two years old, how to act in a store. He’s drilling down on the elements of “stranger danger.” So everyone nearby hears him tell the little lad, “Theo, you have to stay close to daddy. Or someone might try to steal you. Like that lady right there. She might try to take you when I’m not looking.” I turn my head. He’s pointing his finger. At me. His little son stares wide eyed, clearly terrified. The shocked look on my frowning face probably doesn’t help.

I move away quickly, guiltily ducking whenever I come near the duo, thus enforcing the child’s notion that I’m cunningly waiting for a chance to nab him. To make matters worse, when I finally exit the store, the father is there teaching his son to not go near the front door alone because someone like that lady right there (me again) might try to grab him and run away with him. It’s a testament to my self control that I don’t swipe the kid and run out of the store just to make the point.

This is NOT the way we should treat one another in stores. Hopefully, most of us have memories of positive shopping experiences …

Many years ago, foot surgery required I hobble around on crutches. It was Christmas time and, as luck would have it, the little microwave my husband and I hoped to afford to gift one another that year was on sale at one of the big box stores. The drawback was the ad said there were only 10 of them, so only the first 10 buyers would get one.

Well, there I stood that frosty morning in a long line of people anxiously waiting for the store to open, wobbling on my crutches and wondering how on earth I thought I could do this. And then, from the lips of the first person in that line came the stunning announcement, “Hey, folks, shall we let that little lady on crutches stand at the front of the line?” A short silence ensued while everyone looked at me, assessed my level of inability, concluded I would be no competition for whatever treasure they were lined up to grab, and then came a mutually hearty, “Yeah! Sure! Sounds good!” I was ushered to the front of the line, met the man who made the invitation, and found him to be a delightful, cowboy-like fellow who, when the doors finally opened, was off like a bullet. I staggered inside, turned to the right to get out of everyone’s way, and teetered my way to the microwave area where I managed to snag the last oven. Success? Yes. Why? Because everyone in that line, especially the first guy, valued the people in the line more than the stuff in the store.

So be that guy. Be kind to people when you’re shopping. And teach your kids too. Teach them successful shopping is more about the people they encounter than the stuff they buy. Chances to do good while shopping are boundless: give up a parking space; move a cart that’s in someone’s way; don’t hog stuff; say kind things; get something off the shelf for someone; make yourself unforgettable to the cashier by the way you treat her or him; be patient, especially when it’s not easy; say “thank you” when it’s not expected; look into people’s faces to figure out what you can do for them; and smile. At everyone.

For a real Christmas spirit-kindling experience, get $20 in one-dollar bills, take the kids to the dollar store, and let them hand out the bills to the shoppers there. They’ll learn to focus on people in a charitable way, to be genuinely generous, and to give without getting. And they’ll learn it takes courage to give to a stranger — something they should learn early in life.

Online shopping robs us of the chance to shop together. So the little time we spend in store aisles with each other should absolutely embrace the Christmas spirit.

A holly, jolly Christmas is just a smile and a kind word away.