Elaina Portugal

06/20/23

As I head into the organic, granola, tree-hugging grocery store on my way home from an appointment, I notice this woman talking to someone in the parking lot. She waves her arms and laughs as she proffers up her backpack to the woman before her. The woman doesn’t look into the backpack or at the woman but instead rummages through her own purse. I pull a five-dollar bill out of my wallet as I walk by in case she stops me next. 

I can tell by her attire that she is probably homeless. Her hair, wrapped in a floral scarf, does its best to keep its wiry black and grey tufts at her temples from popping out of its colorful binding. Her shoes do not match, nor do her clothes, but she seems clean, and when she smiles, she has all her teeth. As I walk past the pair, I notice the woman rifling through her purse has an irritated look on her face while the homeless woman exudes a childlike joy as she talks and motions at the items in her backpack. I can’t tell if she is somehow disabled or if she is high on drugs. 

I put the five dollars in my pocket and go into the store, and promptly forget about the two women as I look at the price tags on some of the items. Do people actually pay six dollars for organic tortilla chips? The five dollars in my pocket feels a bit paltry as I look at other price tags on my way to the meat counter. I know from past experience that the weekly meat sales rival the local grocery store chain, and the quality is much better. If not for that, I’d never shop here. I’m an Aldi kinda gal.

When I finish, I take the bag to my car, and as I check my mirrors to pull out, I see the woman with the backpack sitting on the curb across the lane behind me. I watch her for a few seconds. She has her backpack splayed open next to her on the curb, and her hands are filled with notecards and envelopes. As I watch, she ruffles through them and then picks something out of the backpack and places it on one of the notecards. She claps and raises her head up as if giving thanks, and now I’m intrigued.

I pull out, roll my window down and pull up beside her. 

She jumps up and does a little dance as she approaches my car. “Did you get me a treat from the store?” she asks.

I smile at her exuberance. “No, ma’am, but I do have some money.” 

“You’re going to buy one of my cards?” she asks, and I can see the hope and pride on her face as she waits for my answer.

“Of course!” I say. 

She shuffles the notecards in her hands and picks one out and hands it to me. “This one is perfect for you!” She squeals a bit as she hands it to me and does another little jig as I hand her the five dollars.

“Have a great day!” I say, and as I pull away, she twirls where she stands and does a little jump. I watch from my rearview mirror as she kisses the bill and then stuffs it into her blouse. 

Whoever she is, whatever her circumstance, the look on her face when she realized I was going to buy one of her cards, was priceless. 

I think I came out ahead on this deal.

If you’d like to read more of Elaina’s letters, click here.