Going to the post office is usually a weekly event for me. However, our world has changed and now I must give careful consideration to this journey, as my age and health condition put me into the "vulnerable" category. There are decisions that I need to make. Is this a package that must go out now? Which of the post offices is closest to me? Before I set out from my home, I need to make two decisions!
On the drive over, I determined that I should wait for someone to come out and ask them to take my package in. One more decision was made. Then I realized that I would be making contact with a perfect stranger, and what is the difference between talking to that stranger and just going in and talking to the clerk? Another decision was made and then I walked inside and waited for my turn.
Shortly, I was called to the window, where the postal clerk was aware of the fear in my eyes. She quietly stepped back from her station and signaled me to come forward. I stepped up to the counter and placed my package on the scale. She then signaled me to step back. I moved away and she began the process of weighing it and determining the proper postage. She told me the price and signaled me forward as she took a step back. Again. I believed she saw the terror in my eyes and said,
"One moment. Ma'am. " She leaned under the counter and picked up a wipe. She thoroughly cleaned the credit card machine and the entire counter around it. She then stepped back and again signaled me forward. As I inserted my card, my tears started to roll down. I was so moved by the care with which she accomplished this usually very simple task. When I had completed the transaction(交易), she again signaled me back as she stepped forward. She took the receipt, wiped it down, and lay it on the counter. Beside it, she placed a clean tissue as she could see my tears were still streaming down my cheeks. She again stepped away from the counter. I picked up the receipt and took a step back. In gratitude, I bowed to her. She bowed to me with equal respect.
