Two types of people

First of all, does it say much about the course of my life that I haven't posted anything since April? It's been a tough summer, with a toddler and baby to chase around the house and my mom's illness, but finally, the house is quiet and enough thoughts are rattling around in my brain to write something :) So here it is...

There are two types of people in the world based, of course, on many varied categories. For example, there are those who love toasted coconut and those who think it tastes like pencil shavings. There are the left-handed, the right-handed. Tow-may-tow, tow-mah-tow. Some think rapper Eminem is a genius while others say he's a no-class punk who has managed to impress the masses with his fifth-grade rhyming skills - enough to distract listeners from his hateful rants against women. Any guesses on where I fall?

Today I reflect on those who give joy and those who steal it.

Last night my family and I rolled in from a trip to upstate New York to visit my in-laws and extended family at their lake house on beautiful Lake Pleasant. More on the trip later, but suffice it to say the plane rides to and from with two kids under age 3 weren't, well, pleasant. In fact, it was exhausting. It turns out that my sweet 2-year-old, Katie, doesn't travel too well, and in our layover in Cleveland, her displeasure with riding in car seats, airplanes and strollers had reached its saturation point. A tantrum ensued, and a very public one at that. Aaron and I were eager to get dinner for all of us before catching our home-bound flight, but Katie was too far gone to follow any more orders and decided to flail and scream. Blood red and barking "I want to get down," Katie attracted a sizable audience as Aaron and I tried to calm her. But without a time-out spot to put her in or the guts to spank her and risk someone freaking out and calling child protective services, we told her we weren't going to eat until she finished her fit. Obviously, this one was going to take a while to run its course, so there we stood, waiting.

Before you think I'm going to say that my child is a joy-stealer, think again. Because here he comes. Enter angry middle-aged man from stage right. He stomps up to my husband, waving his arms and telling him he should just pick her up and hold her. We were being cruel, he said. Aaron just shrugged his shoulders and smiled at the guy, who apparently thinks a good cuddle will solve this whole kicking and screaming business. In retrospect, we should have offered him a chance to prove his armchair parenting. He walked away, cursing as he passed me.

Shortly thereafter, Hurricane Katie was downgraded to a mere squall and she ended up happily sharing my dinner and running around the terminal before we boarded our flight. I, on the other hand, spent the rest of the evening fuming internally over the nerve that man had to scold us. Aaron and I wondered whether he'd ever had a child before. How did his cuddle method work for that kid? How did his kid turn out in a world in which it's a little unusual, say, for a police officer to offer you a squeeze when he's clocked you doing 70 in a 45 mph zone or your boss to give you a bear hug when you're underperforming.

But, as is typical for the Lord to do, He put a joy-giver in front of me this morning to remind me that not all strangers are strange. The kids accompanied me on a grocery trip to Kroger on a steamy Louisville morning with temperatures already in the 90s. We walked through the sliding front doors, Katie at my left side and Adam hanging in his car seat from my right elbow. I scanned the fleet of carts for the kind with the kiddy car in front for Katie but couldn't locate one. Man, I didn't want to go back out in that heat with two kids - one of them very heavy, I might add - to find one. But Glenna noticed.

Glenna is a dear, sweet lady whose job it is to greet Kroger customers and collect stray shopping carts, although she typically goes above and beyond where we're concerned. I have to preface this with the fact that Glenna has to be well into her 70s, and I truly hate the fact that she has to work at all. Of course, for all I know she may do it because she loves it. She certainly acts that way.

Anyway, Glenna noticed my dilemma and offered to fetch the cart for us.

"What color would you like?" she asked Katie.
"Pink," Katie answered, her usual response to any question of color preference. Of course, that wasn't an option. Glenna took Katie's hand and led her out to pick one while Adam and I waited inside the air-conditioned entryway.

They returned with Katie behind the plastic wheel of a green car, and with a thanks and a wave to Glenna we were off to shop.

As I was checking out, Katie had decided she'd had enough of riding and declared she was walking to the car with me - a perilous excursion in my experience, although Katie typically sticks close by and holds my hand as we walk through parking lots. But noticing my mini-me had ditched her side car, Glenna offered to walk us out, holding Katie's hand for me. On the way out, Glenna told me a little about her family - that she was sending her granddaughter to Disney World as a gift because the girl had lost her mother, never known her father and recently lost her grandfather unexpectedly. Her grandfather, of course, was Glenna's husband, but she told it from her granddaughter's perspective, as is common for those who are focused on others.

As I strapped the kids into their car seats, Glenna loaded my groceries into the trunk and wished us a good day.

"Thank you so much for all your help," I told Glenna, patting her shoulder. "You know, you really didn't have to do any of that."

"That's OK," she answered. "I just love spending time with young families."

Well, all I've got to say is I'm thankful for people who love on young families and don't look at them like they're a burden. God bless you, Glenna, and all of those like you.