Easter Hope Alive In The Gift Shop
In the Christian tradition, Easter Sunday marks the glorious and ultimate manifestation of hope. Scriptural accounts of Jesus’ resurrection encourage Christians to ground themselves in faith and belief so that the miracle of the empty tomb might be symbolically accessible to all.
I know many who are dedicated to their faith, and the trek of life is supported by convictions that are deeply grounded in their religious devotions. And then there are those not so sure about faith, or who have no faith, or whose faith just doesn’t make sense. Regardless of spiritual status, most people find themselves within a story of heartache they never imagined. And the bottom line is, we all need hope. We are all searching for inspiration to keep moving forward, which brings me to a the hospital gift shop.
My friend is a volunteer at a local hospital gift shop. Every Tuesday afternoon, she shows up with a smile and expansive heart ready to work the cash register or restock the shelves with Precious Moment figurines. Recently, we had a conversation about her Tuesdays at the gift shop which moved me to tears.
My friend recounted the time when a woman entered the gift shop appearing aimless as she perused the shelves looking for something, but finding nothing. Because my friend exudes an intuitive softness of heart, she quietly approached the woman and asked in a meaningful way, “Can I help you find something?” A bit of small talk lead to the real reason this woman was at the hospital. Her adult daughter was on life support just off the elevator a few floors up. This mother was facing some tough decisions she could have never imagined regarding her beloved daughter. As the woman searched for something, anything in the gift shop to relieve her angst, my friend was there. No avoidance of pain. No packaged words of trite condolence. No prophesizing. Rather, my friend just remained with a caring and compassionate heart. Little did my friend know she was refueling this mother with kindness so that her depleted heart had some reserve that would help her make the journey back up the elevator.
That same day, a young man entered the gift shop. His wife had just had a baby. He blabbered incoherent joy. Eyes wide, confused by the tsunami of love which suddenly overcomes a new parent, he needed direction to gift his wife and new baby. My friend shared in the pureness of this dad’s joy. I can only imagine her asking him a million questions that allowed him to just keep imparting his happiness.
As my friend talked, I became more and more captivated by the profound experiences she encounters every Tuesday afternoon. If you think about it, people visit hospitals for an a sundry of reasons. Many times the hospital gift shop is the first step along the path towards a loved one just upstairs. Visitors walk in with their worries, their sadness, their shocks and their delights. Knowing my friend, she receives it all, ready to provide hope in whatever way her intuitive heart suggests.
Most of us live an ordinary life where the manifestation of hope can be bold, but most times encouragement shows up in the most unassuming places with the most unassuming people. As we rest in the season of Easter, regardless of your religious status, I encourage all of us to keep our eyes and ears open to the grace that surrounds us offering small ways of hope. Who knew Easter hope could be embodied by my friend in the hospital gift shop?