A little while ago I stood online for pastries at Gideon's. Pies were on sale (half off!), and the line stretched nearly to the door. Two little girls, sisters, made faces at themselves in the mirror while their mother bought bread. Behind me a boy waited excitedly with his father, both dressed in the black and white Orthodox tradition. What kind of cookie can I get, Pappa, the boy asked, his brown eyes round with excitement. His rather replied calmly, let's see what kind they have today. The little boy almost shook with joy.
The decision must have been quick because as I exited with my pie, the little boy and his father followed closely behind. The boy looked into a small paper bag and said, but I wanted a different one. His father explained calmly, you said you wanted that one. But I dooooon't! I want the otha one, the boy whined with disappointment veering on despair. I thought, if only life's disappointments remained limited to those of a six year old, how tolerable life would be.
The boy's father remained unfazed and replied, his voice gentle and comforting, you're tired, let's go home and relax. The boy wiped away a tear, and said sadly, OK Pappa. There was no anger in the interaction, though there easily could have been. And in that way, the two continued down the hill hand in hand, the boy clutching the bag with the cookie to his chest as if it were a treasure. I walked away thinking I had witnessed something beautiful.
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