Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town

One afternoon I stopped by the bank to make a few deposits. I was in a rush and needed to get in and out as soon as possible. I had places to go and things I had to do. I picked the worst possible time of day and the worst day of the week to do my banking. But I had been out of town and needed to catch up on errands before the weekend began.

There was only one teller working and the line was about fifteen people deep. After waiting patiently, I got close to the front of the line. Looking back at the dozen or so people who had entered the line after me, I was relieved that the wait was almost over. Unfortunately, the elderly woman who was making a deposit was requiring a lot more assistance than the others who had gone before her.

She must have been 85 years old. She held a cane in one hand and wore a thick pair of glasses that were visible only after she peeled away her sunglasses. They were the kind of sunglasses that fit over her regular glasses and were big enough to block harmful rays from even the nastiest of solar eclipses. They were the kind that retirees used to wear to watch shuttle launches in south Florida. The kind people older people wear when they are consumed by practicality and no longer care as much about fashion.

When she was finally finished with her transaction, she started to make small talk with the teller behind the counter. She did not seem to notice that there were so many people in line behind her. The teller smiled and nodded at everything she said. The old lady told her she reminded her of her daughter. Then she asked the teller whether she had children. She just kept making conversation while the young woman behind the counter provided her with full and undivided attention. She seemed to feel sorry for her. It was as if she appreciated sitting where she was rather than occupying the elderly woman’s shoes.

But there was a younger man in the line who did not feel the same sympathy for the old woman. He glared impatiently at the teller as if to say that she should tell the elderly woman she was holding up the line. He even held out one of his hands and waved at the teller. He was signaling that he had been waiting long enough and that it was time his needs were met. But the teller kept nodding politely and giving the elderly woman her undivided attention.

As soon as she finished talking to the teller, the elderly woman walked out of the bank and headed across the parking lot towards her car. She was walking slowly and labored with every step as she leaned upon her cane for support. She had no one to help her. No husband. No son. No daughter. There was nothing to lean on but a cane.

The younger man who had been so impatient with her needed to hear my pastor talk about the time our church went caroling at the old folks’ home about a year and a half ago. He needed to hear the stories of the elderly people whose lives had been enriched by hearing songs sung to them by people who had never met them before. He needed to hear that elderly people are a treasure and not an inconvenience.

Of course, my pastor was not there to tell him. But I was in the bank that day. In case you haven’t figured it out, the impatient man in the line was me.

I should have dropped what I was doing and given the woman a hand as she made her way across the parking lot. I should have made plans to go back to the retirement home to spend a few hours of visitation. Like you, I probably won’t make it back until Christmas. I have places to go and things I have to do.

I witnessed a bit of a twist on the story once. In the express line at the grocery store an elderly woman was trying to check out. As she fumbled with her purse it became clear that she didn’t really have all her mental faculties and also didn’t even have enough cash or other method to pay. Perhaps she’d forgotten her money. As the line lengthened some in line started craning their necks to see what the hold up was. (normal behavior)

The CASHIER (a young woman) allowed herself to get flustered and became short with the poor woman and started chiding her for not having enough money, not being prepared etc. This just caused the poor old soul to become even more flustered.

A young man in line behind the elderly woman quietly hushed the cashier and paid for the woman’s groceries out of his own pocket. It was one of the most generous, kindest gestures I’ve ever seen. And I’m always glad that I didn’t get exasperated at all.

Someone should have said something to the younger man who was so impatient. He should have understood why the elderly woman was clinging on to the conversation with the young teller. It was probably more than a reminder of her children. More likely, it was a reminder that she had not seen them or talked to them in quite some time. As soon as she finished talking to the teller, the elderly woman walked out of the bank and headed across the parking lot towards her car. She was walking slowly and labored with every step as she leaned upon her cane for support. She had no one to help her. No husband. No son. No daughter. There was nothing to lean on but a cane.

It's hard to know. It's just possible that the woman has plenty of people she speaks to regularly. Perhaps she's the overly chatty type. Also, it could be she is not a bit lonely but prefers being out and about by herself. Her infirmity is no doubt a challenge for her, but all have challenges and she may be glad that she can still meet the challenge of doing things on her own.

Mind you, I am not someone who would want to be heartless toward one who is truly in need. It's just that it's impossible to know a strangers' situation. Often it's far from what it appears on the surface.

That’s funny about your MIL.

My mother, in the last 2 years of her life, lost memory of her loved ones, although she continued to be pleasant and polite.

One of my brothers has a wife that Mother never cared for. But Mother was always polite to this DIL and never made her dislike obvious to my brother or to his wife, although she would sometimes make comments about her to my sisters and me in private.

My sisters and I found it amazing that, even when she no longer remembered who this DIL of hers was, Mother seemed to remember that she did not like her. She did not say anything rude, but she would make faces and did not want to be seated near this DIL.

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