Eventually, a gentleman came over and offered to get me a cup of coffee-while his wife stared daggers at his back. I declined the coffee because it might increase my need for trips to the bathroom but thanked him with tears in my eyes. Later he came back and said, "If there's anything I can do...." I assured him I'd let him know (more daggers). I was in the area with the computer desks so when one became available, I asked the man to move my laptop. He complied with my request and was very gracious. I hope he didn;t know he received even more daggers. I made the inevitable trip to the Ladies Room, and a considerate cleaning lady propped open the heavy door. Two kind strangers in an area filled with fellow travelers and airport employees.
When I arrived at Dulles, late, and with minimal time to catch the last flight for the final leg of my long trip, I was transported between gates by an employee of the airport's subcontractor who advised me her ladies always gave her big tips--$20 or more. How is that for a hostage situation? (She didn't get the $20 and I wrote a letter to Dulles.)
I visited a Kroger and asked for an electric shopping cart, was told they didn't know where it was and acted like they didn't care. The cart hummed into sight operated by another disabled person and the clerk said to me, "You can use it when he's finished." I'm standing there like a stork on crutches-the last thing I wanted or needed was to "hang in" while the man completed his shopping. A chair would have been nice; none was offered.
I give Wal-Mart great kudos for their assistance to disabled people. They have plenty of electric carts and help load purchases when shopping is completed.
When I was down to one crutch I stopped in a fast food restaurant and a lady behind me asked several times if she could help. I thanked her and declined; I was okay-I had one free hand. I waited for my food while she sat down but on my way out I stopped and told her how much it meant to me for her to offer-that most people never give it a thought. Even then, she wanted to carry my food to the car. Some of my faith was restored.
I try to be attuned to the needs of others: I open doors, take items from top shelves, offer to carry heavy packages. Sadly, many offers of help today are met with suspicion and declined, but I still ask.
| Here's the follow-up discussion on this article: | View all related messages |
For a complete listing of article comments, questions, and other discussions related to Sharon Tabor Warren's Golden Years topic, please visit the Discussions page.