I squirm just thinking about the summer months in Chico. It’s unremarkably dry and it’s not a summer day if it’s less than a 100 degrees outside. Besides the grocery store, the New Mall is one of the best places to go.
Shortly after Baxter was born, I tried to adjust Ava’s nap times so they would both be down around the same time and give me a little quiet during the day.
One way to keep her distracted during these times was to run errands. This is where the New Mall comes in.
I strapped the babies into our Sit ‘n Stand and leisurely walked the sweet, cold length of the mall. It was mid-morning and the mall was nearly bare. I’m sure I was actively looking for some specific thing, but I haven’t a clue as to what. We walked the length a few times, stopping at a cheeky boutique here and there. I ended up buying a princess necklace for Av and a hair clip for me, but it ended up as Ava’s, somehow. Just passed the food court was a small ride area where for $0.50 you could ride a train or helicopter. The only one Ava would ride was the Apple Car from Richard Scarry’s imagination. It was louder than we both thought it would be, Bax wanted nothing to do with it.
After the ride we sat at the food court. We had snacks as we talked, sang and cuddled. While we finished up and re-packed the mega stroller, an older man shuffled up to us.
At that point in motherhood, I was a bit awkward with cooing strangers. Let alone, male strangers. But, there was something about this gentle grandpa-aged man. He smiled at my babies and told me how beautiful this time in our lives is and how much they reminded him of his children. Just the sound of his voice alone was a sweet encouragement and his words engraved themselves into my heart. Before shuffling off he reached for my hand and placed a butterscotch candy in it. “Moms don’t always get a reward for all the work they do. This is for you. You’re doing a good job mom.”
I have no idea if he was a “Christian” or not and honestly, I don’t care. He showed me, an absolute stranger, the kind of respect and gentle kindness that I would expect “Christians” to extend to both strangers and friends.
I’ve been thinking about that day and that man non-stop since the incident at the hair salon. I never ate the candy, instead I kept it in the diaper bag for a very long time. Every time I felt defeated, worn out and lost, that candy encouraged me. I would hold it in my hand, hear the crinkle of the wrapper as I played with it. I would remember his encouragement. Unfortunatly, the kids got to it. After digging it out of their mouths, I had to throw it away. But, I will never forget that day and I hope I will soon forget the fight at the salon.
How Vast is the Daffodil? 