This past week I learned you can give a heart without giving a heart.
On Wednesday morning while I waited for the elevator in the parking garage at work, I admired the leather-looking bag carried by the stylishly-dressed woman who was also waiting. It was yellow, a color I don’t normally think much of one way or the other, but this bag was a deep shade of topaz that I found pleasing. I said so out loud to the woman. “Thank you!” she smiled, “I got this at the thrift shop.” “Wow,” I said, “I never would have guessed.” “I get most of my clothes there” she replied, as we both stepped into the elevator. “This skirt was a few hundred dollars online but it only cost $20 at the thrift store. And I got this jacket, scarf, blouse, and… you know what? Everything I have on today came from the thrift store!” “That’s amazing!” I said, and I meant it. Her delight at talking about her clothing and where she got it was so infectious that I wanted to give her a heart. Only I didn’t have one on my person — no pockets in my outfit. There were a few in my rolly-case but it would have taken longer than we had left before she got off at her floor to dig one out. I could have asked her to wait while I got one but she was already smiling so brightly that for the first time ever I felt a heart would be superfluous. We brightened each other’s day just fine without one.
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