My Faith in Humanity Restored

The way I’ve always seen it is that there are two types of people in the world:

a. Those who return their shopping cart to the “Return Carts Here” spot in the parking lot.

b. Those who leave the cart next to their car and drive away quickly before anyone notices.


Yesterday, the cubs and I were grocery shopping at Walmart. Unbeknownst to us, a rainstorm was brewing outside. After the groceries were bagged and loaded into the cart, we walked to the front of the store and saw what we were in for: raindrops the size of quarters hitting the cowering pavement with unprecedented force.

I sighed and strategized how to get the cubs and groceries to the Rav-4 (which was parked at the back of the parking lot, of course) as quickly and tear-free as possible.

I gave Doug a high five and told him we were going to play in the water. Then I covered Kiana’s head the best I could (she was snuggled against me in the Baby Bjorn) and we made a dash to the car. Doug yelped with delight and Kiana flinched as pellets of water ricocheted off her bald little head and on to the ground.

When we reached the car, I left Doug in the cart beside the trunk (in the pounding rain) and quickly lifted Kiana into her car seat. Even though her face was splotchy red and dripping wet, she threw me a love smile that melted me into a soupy puddle of mommy.

After Kiana was buckled in, I turned to grab Douglas. I gasped to see that a gigantic black man had appeared out of nowhere and was hovering over my little boy... with an umbrella.

“I tried to get to you guys sooner,” he explained “but I just couldn’t make it in time.” He looked like Gordon from Sesame Street, with a thick black mustache, bald head, and gentle eyes.

He held the umbrella over our heads as I lifted Doug into his car seat and fastened him in, the stranger himself completely exposed to the elements.

“Thanks so much,” I excused him, not wanting to impose longer than necessary.

“I’ll stay here until you get the groceries in the car,” he said kindly.

“You don’t have to,” I said. “I don’t think I can get any wetter than I already am.”

“Don’t want you to catch a cold. That won’t do anyone any good.”

So I loaded the groceries in the car while he held the umbrella and told me about his grandbabies. I shut the trunk door and thanked him again.

“I’ll take care of your cart for you. You just get on your way with those sweet babies,” he said after he walked me to my car door. He ran the cart the allotted spot and waved goodbye.

My insides clenched with tenderness for this stranger who got wet (soaked) so we wouldn’t have to. He seemed well-practiced at kindness—like he’d been doing it for years and it had become a second-nature to him. What touched me the most, however, was that he had stayed until the job was done—till the last bag was loaded and the cart was put where it belonged.

I felt inspired after being on the receiving end of this small, but large, act of compassion. How I long to be the person with the umbrella, thinking less of myself then those in need, seeing what needs to be done and doing it…until the job is finished.


I do consider myself the type of person to walk my grocery cart to the designated spot. It’s rude to leave it in the middle of the parking lot to create problems for other customers and make more work for the cart collectors. But perhaps there’s one more type of person in this world.

c. One who puts their cart where it belongs, but grabs the other stray carts along the way.