Today at Trader Joe’s, a memory popped into my mind of a kind man named Joe. He was covered in tattoos and usually didn’t say much, but he was often bagging or checking. One day right after I’d had a baby, I was there getting groceries with my newborn in the stroller and my groceries piling up in the bottom of the stroller. I was also exhausted, sleep deprived, and still recovering from a c-section. That day, Joe saw me as a person, not just an object in his long day of bagging and checking until he could clock out. He didn’t ask if I needed help, he just saw that I did, and did something about it. He walked me out to my car and loaded all my groceries in while I got the my sleeping baby in her car seat safely in the car. Joe doesn’t work at my Trader Joe’s anymore, but I hope if he ever sees this he knows that I think of his kindness often and it made an impact that I’ll never forget.