Coupons? Do You See the Line Behind You?

I was in the grocery store the other day, in a hurry as usual, and it was a mad house. Clogging the line in front of me was a woman with a daughter who appeared to be about 5. They were carefully (too carefully) handing over coupons to the cashier. I was not certain what was going on or why she thought it was a great idea to give her daughter an economics lesson when the store was filled to capacity, so I, along with several other annoyed shoppers, switched lines.

I didn’t think another thing about it until I left my home to get the mail and the same woman was walking with her daughter, who was pulling a wagon. I nodded and glanced into the wagon. I was shocked to see it halfway filled with canned goods and staple items.

“Pardon me?” I said, surprising myself. The mom turned around with a lovely smile and said, “Yes?”

“I saw you, earlier, at Tom Thumb. Do you live in the area?”

“We live at the end, in the cul-de-sac. Moved in about a month ago. I’m Nancy and this is my daughter, Jensen.” Nancy offered her hand and, after which, Jensen did the same.

“What a wonderful name, Jensen.”

“Thank you,” she squeaked. I was surprised by the pitch of her voice for a 5-year-old.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” she chirped. Taken aback by her manners, I looked to her mother.

“How old is Jensen?”

“She just turned 3.”

“Three?” I questioned with shock. The little angel was standing halfway up my ribcage and I am not a short person. I knew adults who didn't say thank you when complimented or shake hands.

“Her father is tall.” Nancy said and urged her daughter along.

“What are you girls doing today?” I had to know what the canned goods were about.

“Oh, we are picking up a canned good from each house on our street every Sunday between now and Thanksgiving.”

“Wer'e taking it to the bank,” Jensen beamed.

“The food bank, sweetheart.”

“The food bank.” Jensen corrected herself.

“We put little flyers on the doors a couple weeks ago- just asking people to put one out if they wanted to donate. I'm realizing we get a lot of stuff on the doors in this neighborhood and most people probably threw them away. I haven’t met too many people here yet, so we are just doing what we can.”

Jensen grabbed my hand and took me to the back of her wagon, where there was a sign that said- Kids Can Care. I was so immediately overwhelmed by the scene unfolding around me I did an awkward cough to cover up something- it came out strangled from my tight throat. Tears began to sting my eyes. I was feeling so many different emotions at one time. I couldn’t process any of them.

“Wow,” I uttered. It was a filler, I admit it, but what do you say?

“During the week, we collect the coupons that come in the mail and on Sunday mornings we go and purchase the most nutritious items. Jensen has a 10 dollar allowance for shopping that day. After we do the trip down the street, we take all of our donations over to the food bank.” She wasn’t bragging. She wasn’t pious, nor was she proud. Her statements were so matter of fact it made my throat tighter.

“The food bank is where people who can’t afford to go to Tom Thumb grocery shop,” Jensen said, smiling. She let go of my hand, picked up her wagon handle and started on her way.

“Wait! I need to get my canned good. Can I get a few to make up for the weeks I missed?” Jensen nodded enthusiastically- it was obvious she was very proud.

The emotions I felt were complex. First, as I rummaged through my pantry looking for beans, because they are high in protein and fiber, I wondered why I wasn’t donating to the food bank. The image of Nancy and Jensen in line, managing her little monies and coupons, at the age of 3, so she could donate food to those who couldn’t afford to buy it right now, for what ever reason, made me feel like a heel. I was impatient and selfish in that line. Foot tapping, doing the pee-pee dance, even though I didn’t have to pee.

I was embarrassed they lived in my neighborhood, half a block away and I didn’t know them, know they had moved in or taken the time to read the flyer they’d left. I was heartened by Nancy’s efforts in a community by which she did not yet feel embraced and still jumped right in to support. And then there was Jensen. When I moved to place my cans of beans in the wagon, she asked that she be able to do it for me. I noticed right away, the items in the wagon were a great source of pride for her. She was filling that wagon- and pulling it. Her hands were being put to the plow. She was making a way for others.

I told Nancy I would remind all of the neighbors to put their canned goods out and invited her to lunch this next week. I’ve already called everyone I know in the neighborhood, which has yet to embrace me after 11 years, and invited them to welcome Nancy.

As I watched them walk- never did Nancy try to help Jensen as she struggled with her load. I figured they’d had that discussion before and Jensen knew if she needed help, she would ask for it. There was so much pride on that little girl’s face- it made me hurt a bit.

Why aren’t we all doing what Nancy is doing- hell, what Jensen is doing? We vote with time- not just money. I am sure Nancy could write a check each week if her conscience required her to contribute- but she knows there is no lesson in that for her daughter, who will inherit this world.

At that moment I wanted nothing more than to pound on the doors when I saw Jensen walk up and come back looking a little defeated with her empty hands held out as she shrugged, but it wasn’t my battle to fight. I could and should not save Jensen from disappointment- it is an important lesson for her, part of the process.

As the cold wind blew about me, I was pretty certain Nancy shielded Jensen from very little. Though the lessons of fear, anger, frustration and disappointment are hard to witness in children- they must be experienced. If children are not exposed to a full range of emotions early in life and repetitively- they will never learn how to cope. Every parent wants to laugh it away, protect their child from whatever in the world is threatening to disappoint or sadden, but they would only serve to deny them life skills. This Clever mommy is raising a little girl who will be so very clever.

Jensen is learning to be intentional- to act, to contribute with time and energy. Jensen has purpose- to be a part of the world around her, to help, to nourish, to ease the suffering of others. I know no other 3-year-old like her ... but I’d like to.