Today was one of those perfect May days Kentucky often produces.  Sunny and warm but not hot or muggy, slight breeze, fluffy clouds (and a supermoon tonight!).  J and I had a rare Saturday off together, so we slept in a little and then set off on our errand-running adventures.

First stop was a furniture store auction.  I’ve been intending to redo my home office for quite awhile, but I’m stalled at finding the right desk.  Seeking a bargain, we walked around the store, and not one desk to be found.  Foiled, we headed over to a shopping center instead, me in search of Spring clothes and J being a good sport and entertaining himself in the Dollar store.  I struck out on clothing, but did manage to score a really fabulous pair of shoes.  I thought I could wear them on my birthday next week, perhaps to take a little of the sting out of the number I will now have to write in the “Age” box.  Before meeting J, since my mind was on feeling pretty, I made a last minute detour into the beauty supply store.

Here, a confession: after some experimenting a few months ago, I now wear false eyelashes.  Every. Single. Day.  Once I found the right size and shape for my eye and learned some application skills, I was hooked.  No more searching for the ever elusive perfect mascara. Instead, I stick ’em on every morning and move on through my day with perfect, lovely lashes.  I normally wouldn’t broadcast that, but it’s the key to what happened next. I can find the type I wear at Walmart, where we were heading later, but I can also find them at the beauty supply store.  It was on the way to the car, and they’re right by the door, so I knew it would be a quick grab and no hassle.

I picked up two sets (Rule of Eyelashes:  Always keep a spare set), and made my way to the counter.  There were two ladies ahead of me, shopping together.  They apparently knew the clerk, and were chatting while the one who was paying scrambled through her purse for her discount card.  The scramble wasn’t going that well, and when they apologized to the clerk she breezily told them it was no problem, she wasn’t in any kind of hurry.  Well that’s a plus for customer service and all, but she didn’t bother to ask if *I* was in a hurry, and I was getting nowhere fast.  Here, another confession: I’m impatient.  VERY.  I’ve made some good strides at not showing it on my face, and believe me, I’ve prayed about it, but I am.  So on the inside, I was moving from neutral to aggravated.  Finally, they decided to pause their transaction (still scrambling) and the clerk began to ring me up, when she stopped.  She announced that there was a current deal where I could get a bottle of nail polish free for buying two sets of lashes.  Somewhat mollified, I asked her which colors I could choose from.  As she walked me over to the rack, another customer who had overheard eagerly asked me what I was buying so she could get the same deal.

Still half-listening to the clerk, I quickly said “eyelashes”, and turned to look at the colors.  The customer next to me wasn’t deterred and asked me where the eyelashes were in the store.  Buoyed by the promise of free merchandise, I remembered my manners, and showed her where they were.  She had more questions;  What kind did I like?  How did I choose? What kind of glue did she need?  Before I could even begin answering, she said, “You see, I had cancer, and my eyebrows and eyelashes really haven’t come back much.”  I had glanced at her on the way to the eyelash rack, but now I really looked at her.  She was right, they were sparse.  But her eyes were smiling – she was as excited about a bargain as I was, and as interested in dressing up her eyes as I was, too.  Chastened by my previous hurry, I explained the different ones I had tried and why the style I wore now was my favorite.  I helped her find the best kind of glue and then went back to the nail polishes with her while we talked about our favorite colors.

I chose my shade, and so did she, and she followed me back to the counter.  I paid and gathered my bag and purse to leave.  I wished her luck with the eyelashes and she thanked me for helping her, we shared a genuine smile, and I left.  She was kind, but I should have been thanking her instead.  She had reminded me of how much we all want to feel pretty, no matter what it is we have to work with.  More importantly, my brief encounter with her reminded me to stuff it the next time I start to get impatient.  While vanity is an overdose of devotion to one’s appearance, I think there is a vanity of our time and its importance as well.  Each moment brings chances to smile, to share a moment, to boost someone up.  I doubt circumstances today led me to the beauty supply store instead of Walmart so I could be a small blessing to a stranger.  I think it was so I could be humbled.  I’m thankful for the lesson.