I Call Him Jason

It’s rare to meet a person in our day-to-day lives who intrigues and surprises us by just being himself. And yet my husband and I are regularly meeting a young man, who is a checker at the Publix we frequent, who has made a poignant impression on us.

When we shop on Tuesday mornings, he has been a regular checker, and after several weeks we have made our way to his lane. The first time we met him, we saw this curly-haired, tall, thin, young man with black hair and black-rimmed glasses. He was distantly polite and barely looked at us. But he was clearly engaged with his work. After he asked the required question, did you find everything, he silently weighed produce and scanned items. I tried to make small talk, but he was politely aloof.

But as the weeks went on, we started to make a connection with him. I caught his eye and smiled; he asked how we were, and I responded positively and asked him the same. I think we even made some small talk; I was captured by his shy smile and I commented on how fast he worked! He looked straight at me and smiled. Just before we left that day, he said, you are really nice people. Wow.

But we had a breakthrough last week. We walked up and declared him our regular checker. Then he proceeded to tell us that he had gone on a walk that morning with his sister. I was delightfully surprised; that was the first time he had shared personal information. I asked him if they’d had a good walk, and he answered, yes. And then I added that it was a beautiful morning to be outside.

I feel as if each visit is a gift box to be unwrapped. How will he greet us, respond to us? It’s like watching a flower bud unfold in its own time. Without pressing him, I hope to find out more about him, and watch his petals stretch toward the light.

And ask him his name, and tell him mine.