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Illustration by Alex Siklos

First Person is a daily personal piece submitted by readers. Have a story to tell? See our guidelines at tgam.ca/essayguide.

I’ve been noodling over writing this piece for a few years. But I’ve always given up over the notion that it will unavoidably come off as the musings of an old crank.

And then, a few weeks ago, I had an epiphany that got this old crank recharged. I was at my local grocery store, descending upon the only open cashier at the same time as a woman at least a decade my senior (with a full cart of groceries). I motioned for her to go first and she waved me off, insisting that, as I had only one item to purchase, I should be the first to cash out. We carried on like this for a few more rounds until she stomped her foot in mock anger and I proceeded.

Sometimes you find joy in the strangest places, like the grocery checkout line

I thanked her and we struck up a conversation, chatting about the weather, the wonderful grocery store that we both loved and about how she was so grateful that the store carried her favourite brand of tea. We wished one another a lovely day and I left the grocery store smiling.

The epiphany? Well, it’s simple really. The lady had unselfishly let me go first and I had thanked her, and that common courtesy of expressing my gratitude proved to be a gateway to a lovely conversation with a perfect stranger. That connection brightened my day as, I assume, it did hers. The world felt a little kinder in that moment.

And then I drove home. It’s not an easy drive – the streets are narrow with cars parked both ways along the edges, often leaving only a single lane for traffic to pass through. It’s a game of give and go – someone pulls to the side to let you drive by, and then you find a gap to pull into while you let others pass by. In a perfect world it would be a gratitude-fest, with drivers waving their thanks to one another as they navigated their way along the street. But that day, nary a hand went up in recognition of the space that was being yielded to them to pass through. Unfortunately, that appears to have become the norm.

Sometimes a little absurdity is just what you need when you’re grieving

Thanking someone is the gracious thing to do. It properly rewards them for their kindness and, I believe, makes them more likely to be kind to others. But I am convinced that it also enriches the person who expresses their gratitude. After all, by thanking someone you implicitly acknowledge that they have done something nice for you, that they made some aspect of your day easier or more enjoyable. And that may cause you to reflect on how your actions can have the same impact on others, even on perfect strangers. On a societal level, this reinforces the proposition that we live in a community that will flourish only when we help one another out and when we foster human decency. These moments of connection, no matter how fleeting, elevate us all.

So next time someone lets you merge your car in front of theirs or holds a door open for you or compliments your outfit or picks up something you have dropped or pulls something off a shelf that is out of your reach or (for others like this old crank) offers you their seat on a subway, take a moment to look them in the eye, smile and say “thank you.” You will both walk away from that interaction feeling happier.

As for the lady at the grocery store, thanks again for letting me go first in the cashier’s line. I hope when you drove home that others thanked you when you pulled over to let them pass by. You most definitely deserved it.

Amy Lewtas Macfarlane lives in Toronto.

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