While there’s life, there’s hope. (Cicero)
Sometimes what we thought was the ending is just the beginning. (Unknown)
My husband and I recently visited an enchanting shop full of unique arts and crafts that delighted and intrigued me. As the proprietor was ringing up my purchases, I was chatting with him enthusiastically about his beautiful pieces and mentioned something to the effect about how cool it must be to work there. He looked at me with some moroseness, and said, “Well, I don’t know about that. I’m 74; I’m on the downward trail, you know, just waitin’ for the big hammer to fall.”
Acckkk. What horrible faux pas had I made? Was he dying? Nope. As he continued on, it seems he just wasn’t the most cheerful of types. As I finished my purchases, I sent him some positive thoughts, wishing for him that the beauty and whimsical humor that surrounded him in his shop might lighten his load, and give him a sense of the possible.
Contrast that with the next place we stopped, JoboJoe’s, an outdoor coffee shop, where the lively old proprietor greeted us with a twinkle in his eye, and served up our coffee with the observation that it was a mighty fine day ’cause he had wakened up on “this side of the dirt.” (I think he meant that both literally and figuratively.)
Maybe the difference between the two men was all those coffee fumes JoboJoe inhaled, but I don’t think so. There are two distinct world views implicit in their brief comments — which one would you choose?
