Goodwill

My objective was a big shirt to paint in.

While I browsed the over-sized XLs, I overheard this:

"Sure don't want no more of that Obamacare.

And Hillary'll just keep that going.

Yep, we need somebody who can take care of business!"

I know I should have kept right on browsing the XLs,

but before I knew it, I had made my way over to the table

where this elderly black gentleman was holding court.

The two young ladies working on paperwork at the table with him

  looked a bit embarrassed by his loud monologue, but continued
to provide him with a ready audience.

"Sounds like you had a bad Obamacare experience?" I offered.

"Sure did!" he growled.

"I'm so sorry. You know we actually had a very good Obamacare

experience before my husband died.

Thanks to Obamacare,

the cost of his very expensive medications

was cut in half for us, and we were so relieved."

"Well, my premiums keep going up!"

"That is a bummer...just not fair, is it?"

And then, in hopes of nudging him just an inch away from his

negative pulpit-pounding, I ventured to say,

"You know, maybe we just have to be grateful for whatever

is good in our lives today." 

"Well, I'm not grateful I'm having to do chemo."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"And I've got all these complications...my hands and feet burn all the time."

"Yes, my husband had peripheral neuropathy too, and he was miserable.

I am so sorry you are having to deal with that.

It is awful!"

For the first time, he looked up at me, held out his hand and said,

"Feel my hand. It's ice-cold."

So I took his hand in mine and agreed with him,

even though it didn't feel cold at all to me.

"I'll be thinking about you," I said.

We debate ideologies, when underneath,

we are just wanting someone to

feel our pain.

Thanks to Rob and his pain, 

a connection was made.

Goodwill indeed!